


Deus in Absentia

by The Killing Moon (ikhannnnnt)



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Dark Magic, Declarations Of Love, Demons, Developing Relationship, Emotional Porn, Emotional Sex, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Feels, Fire Magic, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Ghoul Sex, Gothic, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Internal Conflict, Love, Macabre, Near Death Experiences, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Post-Apocalypse, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Secret Organizations, Sex, Shameless Smut, Sleeping Beauty Elements, Smut, Star-crossed, Witchcraft, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 92,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22251694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikhannnnnt/pseuds/The%20Killing%20Moon
Summary: Scene setting: Its the beginning of Year Zero and the world is in flames. While the Clergy celebrates the rise of Satan away from Headquarters, Dew disconnects to a remote location and an existential crisis ensues. He's pondering his life's work, brooding with disinterest when a new intrigue presents itself in the form of a woman.In an unlikely place, at an unlikely time, he's renewed at the prospect of exploitation. Considering the possibilities it carries with it, he acts on impulse and makes a selfish decision that will end up impacting both of their lives forever. Of course, he couldn't have imagined that his world would turn upside down, and he's even less prepared to find himself falling in love.* This isn't meant to be Biblical, but the overtures are there, however inaccurate
Relationships: Dewdrop Ghoul | Fire Ghoul/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 70
Kudos: 41





	1. This may not be the end of the world, but you can see it from here.

The illumination was timeless at the start of Year Zero, and the world was on fire for many days as the souls continued their burn into the earth. Everything had been thrown off kilter as life submerged into unimaginable chaos with lives and land destroyed. 

It seemed to be the end of time, and it was a startling abstract to the ideal held by many - that wishful hope that one wouldn’t live to see such times. 

As with many, Selene couldn’t have dreamt she’d be around to see this, watching the world engulfed in flame. She’d seen many things, unthinkable imagery that was beyond belief, and yet - she knew everything to be completely true, even if she struggled with comprehension of what it meant. 

She lived into many nights at the start of the catastrophe, seemingly untouchable, devoid of the harm inflicted on so many others during the frenetic moments that carried on unending in dust, blood and scalding heat. She disconnected from those she knew and loved, overwhelmed by the influence of her own survival instinct. 

For days she had ran, diverting from danger where she could and in this time, she knew neither friend nor foe. What she did know was that she had to be modest with her trust, especially as she barely believed in her own capabilities to find shelter, safety, hope or to even live into the next day. 

It seemed that comfort and familiarity had abandoned her quite swiftly, leaving her impossibly more alone. So many had most assuredly met their demise, and finding less wanderers in her path as the hours passed, she wondered when her life would also end.

Truly, the inevitability of the situation should have been enough for her to lay down her unintended armor. Why fight this? But by some mystery, she remained undeterred from moving forward as she walked alone in desolation, and through a world now so very destructed, it was not even her own.

Her feet carried her through the Hell of the earth, and it became a mythical experience as she began her slow burn towards death. Nothing was familiar now and she was growing tired, weary from the weight of her world crashing down around her. It was a miracle in it’s own way that she had even made it this far, much less that she was still moving. 

Surely this had been intended, but by what power? What was the explanation for this, she wondered? All these questions went unanswered, and all too soon it became harder to breathe with every emotional step further into the nothingness. 

Less seemed to matter and then nothing at all. 

\----------

She beheld the new sight in terror, although she was uncomprehending when the sky began to splinter and the ground seemed to rise up from within itself for consummation. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes, registering even through blurred vision that the end of time had come. It was terrible and perfecting when the thunder boomed and incantations replaced the void to fill with sound. 

The new inhabiters of the earth had come, interspersed and roaming free with frenzy. They were in unholy rapture, and it was almost more than she could believe as the heat beneath her feet intensified, shooting up to fill her body in an alarming way.

Selene moved further away from the vicinity of the debacle then, beginning to stumble aimlessly with fear and fatigue as the ground began to quake again. Embarking up a hill, it was then that she began to feel the full weight of her exhaustion, and along with her collapsed will, her legs gave way.

The physical agony set in, pain from that of a body so broken, she was sure she was going to die at this point - if not for bones, for the breaking of her soul. And the concept was ironic poetry in the face of the lost humanity before her. It pierced her in a profound way, everything and how alone she was.

She crashed to the scorched earth, laid on the burdened ground with stinging eyes and heated skin for an immeasurable amount of time. Her breaths became shallow, and it brought forth a small semblance of peace, for what could be more welcoming than death in a time like this? Nothing.

Then the fear left her and she was enlightened by the knowledge, comforted even, that she could not exist in a world like this. She stopped fighting because she had been wrong, surely she was not meant for this. And it was fine, it was visceral, and she became unknown to herself in that moment of peace.

Whether to breathe or to die, she knew both were a means to an end at this point. It was impossible for her as the smoke continued to fill and swirl within her lungs. It burned so fucking much - the uncontrolled inferno within her, along with the other various damages to her body and spirit, but she thought only of how far she had come.

Even despite the pain, she recognized how brave she had been and it was more than enough to console her into the oblivion. So when the blackness began to take her eyesight and the aching in her chest spread, she was ready.

If this was the will of God or of Satan, so be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hang in there - moody ghoul ahead.


	2. Without Expression.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dew, absolutely done with life as he contemplates his existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Passing thoughts of self harm & destruction, please be warned if its in any way triggering. *hugs*

He felt empty, an emotion quite rare in consideration of his life of debauchery and yet, somehow it bothered him despite his nihilistic tendencies towards the extreme. It surprised him, really. This was not the reaction he had expected of himself in any small measure to the rise of the Unholy Father and to what appeared would be the successful end to the era.

He was grateful, truly, having spent the majority of his recent years touring the world for the Ghost project. All the dedication seemed to come full circle to him now and that validation was welcomed. It had been his greatest achievement in many ways, a rewarding duty of which many benefits were reaped and there was so much promise left.

It was all so clear to him, the role in which he had played to get to this day. Of course there were many others too with contribution, and he thought rather fondly of his family of sin now, as he sat perched atop a rock formation overlooking the valley.

Foremost in his life, after himself, were his brother ghouls and they had always connected effortlessly- relatable in their passion for the music and for the cause, despite their drastic variances in personality. It had been no small feat to grow and adapt since their summoning from Hell and he knew he had probably struggled the most with this before learning to transform his ferality in an advantageous way.

He had really gone hard - seeking out danger, always haphazard in his approach to life, and he constantly teetered on the edge of The Clergy’s acceptance. He probably should have been kicked out so many times for dangerous behavior, fighting, destroying property and belongings, continuous sexual advances at the most inappropriate times with some of the most inappropriate members…

Honestly, the list went on and it wasn’t lost on him that many of his near-cuts from the band, probably from the entire church, had not come to pass because of the many interventions from Copia. The Cardinal seemed to understand his need to remain occupied, interested, stimulated…and he clearly recognized the unique dynamic this brought to the group.

He was after all, a total Satan spawn- both a nightmarish menace and a revered figure of charisma. These were just facts and they transformed him.

He was completely aware of his fiendish attributes and the entrancing nature with which he held himself, how it captivated most everyone he encountered. He unsettled people, disarmed them, fucking entranced them with his attitude and skill. He lusted for attention, for inherent chaos and it always returned to him tenfold in his mastering, as he fed the masses, a spectrum of archetypes, through taunt and tease. And he had done all these things without inhibition, exhibiting the outliers of his most true self for all to behold.

He became _The Gremlin_ , that little bitch who owned the stage and demanded attention, getting off by the illusion he created for people - all the suggestions he let hang in the air, and it was visible just how much torment he was responsible for. It fed him- how they were impacted on emotional and physical levels. He conspired with their conflicts, made them believers.

He fucking had them.

The escapades were also limitless and he was so very dedicated, so eager to maintain this visage of criminal sin and aggression. He never sought recognition, knowing it would find him and it had, but he wanted - if anything- the approval of his superiors and he felt revered in that regard, at least where Copia was concerned by the praise he was often given.

\----------

In reflection of all this - it really should have been a momentous occasion, one of profound glory with the uprising of Satan, a prophecy fulfilled at last. Of course, he'd always known it would come to be, and as the most steadfast of the ghouls in this belief, the unparalleled victory that finally came was no grand surprise. It had only been a matter of time and that time was clearly now.

So why did he feel so damn desolate?

Detached from the activities, having grown bored of the celebrations rather quickly, he’d kept an ample distance from most everyone these past few days. His quiet retreat had unfortunately done little to quell his black mood, but at least it prevented him from lashing out at someone, probably Aether, in a way they wouldn’t have deserved simply because he was…empty.

In fact, he quite doubted that anybody was genuinely missing him, thinking perhaps his brothers hadn’t even noticed his absence. He was inclined to believe this because it suited his sulkiness and because nobody had actually come to seek him out. It was fine! He knew they were probably grateful of the reprieve from his little shit antics anyway.

Musing again, he can't help but chuckle sardonically at the terror that he is. As the quintessential demon, he's a fire ghoul who wrecks havoc daily with an attached sadist stigma. He just couldn't believe he was actually failing miserably at his reputation right now.

Quiet, sulking - he was sure he created a pretty picture of contradiction and its enough to piss him off further.

\----------

He looks as far off across the burning land as he can see, still captivated by the beauty of nature, understanding the necessity of the burn and how it will restore in impossible brilliance in the days to come. But for the time, he's rather glad the world seems to look like shit because it makes it easier for him to cope with his feelings - it matches it.

Brewing on his life’s work, he welcomes the melancholy that begins to course through him as he considers the sky, red and split to signify the tear in time. He thought he might feel this way, aware of his chaotic nature all too well, but he hadn’t really anticipated the magnitude of its force or how it seemed to suddenly throw his entire existence off kilter.

In many ways, he could feel his sense of identity slipping, and he wondered what all this meant for him moving forward. Maybe it was just a black day, an odd one that had set him to feeling even less himself than he had yesterday or the day before that.

It was all starting to annoy him. He didn’t want to think existentially, because like who even fucking cared? But despite this, he still attempts to ascertain this sudden loss of self, of how deep from within it's risen to invade his every waking thought. His brows furrow, and he begins to feel his anger begin to boil again. It leaves his skin hot, even despite the cooling sensation of his mask, a disguise thats become second nature to wear and one of the few things he doesn't mind.

Even still, he registers the reality that theres probably no longer a need to conceal his identity in this way. Even still, his appearance has always felt rather like a gift - one of the last true possessions that he can claim ownership of entirely. And in that way, its sacred to him.

He lived for the mystique, thrilled by how it never failed to challenge his pursuers, although their failure was always imminent. None of them ever saw him, the real him and he wasn’t inclined to get on that level of closeness. He trusted very few, and if he was honest, he'd also grown accustomed to the armor-like quality of the mask, how it always provided a measure of security for him, although in what way, he wasn’t terribly sure.

He knew only that he appreciated the anonymity and control it afforded him to decide who was worthy of seeing him, of really knowing him.

And it wasn’t many.

\----------

With a heavy sigh, he conforms to his black mood appropriately as he leans his shoulder against the rock with arms crossed. He continues his revel of disdained boredom, growing more pissy by the second in dissipation of evil’s high. Fuck it all - he was useless and it further agonized his pent up frustration.

In the spirit of intensity, he begins banging the back of his skull against the harsh rock in order to fulfill a causal desire for pain, reaching for some semblance of…feeling. He stomps at the ground, irritation just as apparent in the motion as the inherent growl that rises swiftly from his throat. The sounds fill the air around him, coupled with the clash of metal and bone hitting against rock.

He hurts himself violently, but he doesn’t feel the pain, only the ringing of his ears. That too, subsides quickly and he’s left suffocating in forlorn madness, weighted by the prospect of a new eternity like this. He literally feels like he could crawl out of his skin or maybe it would be better to just jump and see how many bones he could break on impact.

Literally fuck it all.

How could he live like this and why did everything suddenly seem so impossible? He felt crazy, and although it was probably irrational for him to jump to such conclusions, he did wonder how he was going to bear the creeping emptiness in the days to come. He couldn't even fathom years from this point, it was just impossible.

He wonders if he really is fucking useless, if this could all just be a signifier that this is the end of the line for him too. He doesn’t want to consider this, but he does wonder in spite of himself as his vision clouds from his outburst. This feels a lot like angered defeat, and he can’t fathom why its as if he’s looking for grace to save him. Its utterly suffocating to need something to hold onto, but he does and he needs it fast.

If he knows anything, he knows himself and that everything about him is unpredictable, inexplainable. So although it doesn't make sense to him, he acknowledges that he's really going to need a distraction, anything or anyone to save him from himself. And although hope is a dangerous thing, he seeks it as he stares up into a thankless sky devoid of any gods.

It disgusts him to be this weak, to think eventually he’ll compel himself to his own demise if things don’t turn soon.

Fuck his life.


	3. Paper in Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interrupted ghoul musings and something wicked this way comes.

A boom of thunder in the distance swings his vision back into focus, and he knows it signifies the promise of eventual rain. Its necessary as a first cleansing to wash away the embers and renew the earth to a paradise previously unknown. He knows the indefinite nature of this occurrence, and finds it to be such ironic poetry by way of the parallels it will hold to the first great flood.

However, he’s certain it will be with less abandon than that inflicted upon the world from the spiteful God of the old age. Intuitively, he feels this. As a fire ghoul, he knows it. Regardless, he could care less about the rain, despite their dynamic history. He smirks at the exclusivity of his plight, the way he’s left asunder in his thoughts once again to ponder destiny.

The thought continues to invade his mind, that perhaps he was meant to leave as haphazardly as he came into being - that once his service ended, so would his existence. He hates that his mind wanders here still, despite all the assurances of the church and from Cardinal, promise of a life eternal. He gambles on that one last notion, not incredibly confident that he sees the appeal of it before vowing to silence this internal battle.

Thankfully, the lightning in the East disrupts him, catching his eye with its glittery flash and he swears he sees a figure of white down below, amidst the burning trees. It lays in such contrast to the wilding flame and red illumination, immediately piquing his curiosity to a narrowed gaze. He wishes to better ascertain the object from a distance, but its no use - even with his immaculate vision. He’s too far.

His body is in motion of it’s own accord then, compelled to seek out the mystery thats been placed before him. And he has to move quick before that portion of forest is consumed in flame. Could this be excitement? He wonders, acknowledging the way his heartbeat intensifies in rhythm as he begins to descend the cliff. Of course its excitement, and he thanks Satan for this new pursuit, hoping its not a mirage, somehow knowing it isn’t.

\----------

He lands with an energetic heap onto solid ground, and he entertains the notion with humor that this might be the vestige of an unholy beacon calling him forth. He shakes his head in obscured hysteria, rejuvenated to his truer self by the second now as his curiosity moves him forward in a quickened pace. He arrives at the tree line minutes later, taking only a second to determine the path forward under the burning branches, noting the thickness of smoke in the air as he goes further in. It doesn't bother him, but it isn't pleasant.

Temporarily occupied with the swatting of burning leaves that fly around him, he barely misses the fiery tree that falls just beyond his wake. The movement and its crash to the earth, as well as the resulting uproar of sparking embers catches his attention then, and it brings the intended target into his line of vision. Ah-ha!

He draws closer, unhurried even despite the severity of the environment that burns around him in a violent way. Although he’s essentially been made with fire property, he’s aware of the overriding danger that surrounds him. Theres just no way he’s going to leave now when he’s so close to his newfound object of… DESIRE.

Its unthinkable that he would find anybody here and he stops dead, just a few paces from where she lays. The scent of her carries over to him despite terrible air quality, and its heady in combination with the forever brewing firestorm. For the second time today, he’s hit full force in unlikely emotion. He’s beyond intrigue, allured now by the unlikeliness of her here in this god-forsaken place.

A true human, someone he’s never known prior to now. He's certain of this because he would have remembered this woman, recalled the energy that surrounded her, as it does now in an ethereal way despite her dirtied limbs and ripped clothing. He wonders how this is possible, but more importantly, he wonders why he really cares. She’s beautiful, this he knows even before he looks fully upon her face, which remains mostly turned from him, surrounded by glorious raven hair.

He’s hotter than usual as he draws closer to her motionless form and he notes how very luscious she is - a worthy deity if ever there was one. He's not fucking blind, of course he appreciates it, but he feels really out of sorts now as the rush of relief flows through him in finding that she is in fact, still alive. The life force is indicated by her shallow breathing, something he immediately registers when he drops to his knees, leaning down to her. He has to admit that he is most enamored with the way her chest rises and falls, although he knows its happening too quickly.

Could this be concern? She’s alive, but just barely so and he thinks to move her hair from her face to give way for more air. Even he is astounded by the gentle nature of his touch as he brushes her hair back, and turns her face towards him. He sees red, the absolute coloring of desire and thats what registers now, igniting the very last of his nerve endings.

He knows with certainty that he’s never seen anyone more beautiful, and he can’t deny her perfection in spite of his disdain for well, most everyone. Even in such a weakened state, she still holds the value of grace, and on the brink of death, it allures him with captivation. Its instinctual to save her, which hits him hard and factual. Its all in such opposition to himself, but he reasons the probability that she could be his gift, this grand reward for all his work done. Someone to have, such a pretty possession and suddenly life doesn't seem so dull.

Mission fucking accomplished, Fire.

He traces his finger against her cheek, advanced with the delicacy to be creamy smooth in touch despite the blood and sweat that lays there too. His eyes roam her features swift, endlessly and without thought, he delves his fingers into her hair, luxuriating in the softness of the tangled mess. He’s glad to see that its enough to rouse her back to consciousness, although fleeting.

She’s slow in the awakening, cruelly so as he waits in anticipation. He’s now fully aware of the falling branches, afire as they land and spread the heat to enclose them, but he doesn’t rush her. She gives the slightest indication of acknowledgment to his presence then, leaning into his touch with a slight pressure against his palm where it lays against her face. He thinks she must be seeking comfort, and oddly - that disturbs something within him as he memorizes the lines of her face, delicate but strong - gorgeous.

Her eyes are still closed and he can imagine why, for surely there is pain. And its so physically telling by the bruises on her skin, the minimal burns he sees on her arms and shoulders too. She’s severely dehydrated and he assumes, starved as well. This poor creature, he thinks, imagining the things she must have seen. He knows the state of the world is more than most have capacity to endure, to understand.

He feels for her, that she’s made it this far and alone. He knows she doesn’t deserve this, any of it. But she especially doesn't deserve to go like this - suffocated by smoke and consumed in fire, for which he knew her body would burn and dissipate into ash in minutes. He couldn’t allow that to happen, and it continues to perplex him a great deal on how the fuck she's even managed to survive to this moment. Its an incredulous thought, but he might have deemed her a miracle if he believed in the existence of such notions, which he didn’t.

And yet, the improbability of this occurrence - him finding her- occupied his brain. The reality was almost as unexplainable as the sensation within his chest when she finally opened her eyes, interrupting his thoughts.

He watches as she gathers her surroundings, but her reaction is not one of panic and he sees no fear when she eventually looks upwards to him. He hadn’t anticipated this from her, and even less that she would find his eyes so willingly in the haze to smile at him. All he can do is stare back, temporarily paralyzed in her enchantment as they lock eyes.

Her smile transforms her, and the brown depths of her eyes are filled with startling warmth, acceptance and what he thinks might be peace. She motions for him with familiarity then, a sound greeting that leaves him to falter with his breathing as she reaches up to caress the side of his masked face.

He hadn’t realized how close he’d moved into her, but instead of distancing himself, he draws closer in allowance of her touch, awaiting what she might do next. He searches her eyes, impatient in nature as he presses his cheek harder against her palm, willing her to speak, to do…something. Intrigue aside, they were in the path of danger and although he had been drawing this out to the last possible moment for her to understand the situation, he’d have to make a move soon.

Luckily, she sensed the urgency within him and it compelled her to finally speak, to formally greet death or so she thought.

“ _I’ve been waiting for you, dark angel_.”

Her voice was raspy, inevitably burnt from smoke and brimstone, and he knew it would have been an effort for her to get the words out. So very painful on the exhale, it was written on her face but it was fleeting, for what she sought was actually death and it would have overrode the hurt, indefinitely. He knew she was using her last reserves of life now to move her hand around his nape and apply pressure. And she had the look of relief when he lowered his face willingly, drawing so close to her that he knew most assuredly that she was in her final moments.

It translated in every way, and she beckoned for his kiss then. Although her intention was misguided in thinking he was providing the kiss of death, he fulfilled her wish anyway.


	4. a sting in the way you Kiss Me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dew makes a defining decision and indulges in a fire kiss.

He knew he was going to save her, and to be precise - only a fire ghoul could in her current state, so she was in luck. He knew that with his kiss, he could eradicate the internal damage of the smoke from her body and give her life, anew.

It was probably selfish, a fact he recognized in his plan to do the opposite of what she was inclined to believe. Yes, it was absolutely self-serving when he descended towards her mouth then, noting the way she held onto him and closed her eyes the moment just before their lips met. 

At the last second, he closed his too and at the start of their lips colliding, he was the one hit with the feeling of resurrection.

He didn’t typically kiss, and that stemmed from his resolve that the act created more intimacy than he was either accustomed or intended to provide. To him, it often bespoke a promise of something more, and the idea was always more than anything he was ever willing to give.

He just wasn’t about it, but that was not to say he didn’t enjoy the act or the variances of pleasure derived from it, but if he involved himself in this way - he had to tread carefully. He was reminded of that now.

The taste of her was pleasant, as was the sensation of her holding him to her by his neck and she was unyielding in that regard. The moment seemed unending, slowed in time, and although he remained alert, he did allow his tension to lessen significantly. He gave into the kiss, relaxing his body further into her and providing a hard press of his lips onto hers. 

She opened her mouth fully against his, instinctually seeking pleasure, and she was appreciative that Death was so affectionately granting her final wish with intended ardor. Their contact was like a figment of memory, something possibly extracted from only the most beautiful of dreams and she soon began to feel weightless, even with his body half laid on her. 

Her eyes remained closed, shut tight now in her unwillingness to disrupt the beauty of the moment. She held onto Death, clinging to him blindly with the last of her strength in her pursuit of the big sleep. Her hands chanced an arduous touch to his face, masked with burning heat.

She just knew he was perfect, as he was hot like the earth beneath them, and his mouth continued to scorch when she dared to delve her tongue inside. She wasn’t sure if this was an attempt to speed up her demise or just a move to quell her desire.

Probably both, but it didn’t matter.

He obliged fully and she could not have known that in allowing this, she was reversing the very last of her intentions. She could not have known that in kissing him, he had become more assured of both his hunger for her and his decision to keep her alive.

And he thought perhaps to keep her forever.

It startled him to think that, but he wanted it to be true and he had the means to make it so. She made everything so easy for him now, solidifying his decision further when she wrapped both arms around his shoulders for more contact, more intention to deepen their kiss. 

He didn’t provide a warning before burning her to the core in a white heat when his tongue came in to caress her own moments later. It was seeing, but she sought more, kissing him deeper in their electric energy. She willed him to take her there, straight to the abyss of nothingness.

Alas, her arms fall away from him to hit the ground like lead, and she’s consumed with a quiet calm. The most soothing of sensations begin to course throughout her body, a she feels the rush of new air fill her lungs. 

Its an unmatched euphoria when she looks up to him in her drowsy state. She feels almost nothing, only happiness and a fleeting confusion when the figure of him above her comes back into focus. He’s silhouetted dark and the outline of his horns are more noticeable now against the backdrop of the burning trees and the blood red sky above them.

He’s a terrible beauty of the most mesmerizing figure, and she carries the vision of him with her into oblivion.


	5. The Captivation of Sleeping Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A return to Clergy Headquarters and Dew's wandering mind.

_A starlight in the gloom, I only dream of you._

She sleeps for several days, her body healing much on it’s own with time and rest, although he guides it by instilling his energy into her for added strength. Knowing the weakened state a human body tends to take on from a lack of essentials, he does this primarily to maintain her sustenance. He also knows not doing so could have dire consequences, and he had no intention of such neglect.

He wouldn’t have dared allow her the pleasure of slipping away from something as bane as exhaustion or dehydration. He had used black magic in these regards, as he did with setting some broken bones, and changing her clothes…

It was strange for him, but he found he enjoyed the unexpected duty of being her keeper and ensuring her safety- all of which he’d been doing inside the walls of the estate at Clergy Headquarters.

Thinking on it, he hadn’t spent this much time in solitary for quite some time, at least as far as he could remember and he was certain he’d never had the entire wing to himself, much less the grounds of the property. In many ways, their separation from the rest of the world and its inhabitants encouraged his mind to wander.

He could easily pretend they were in new dimension, just the two of them. He preferred it this way, finding solace in the quiet and appreciating the privacy this afforded him to be alone both with his thoughts and with her. For once, he was grateful for the lack of an audience, feeling that any other presence would only disturb him and deter any promise of a relationship they might have. 

He definitely knew he didn’t want anybody here when she woke up and he absolutely didn’t need to be teased about the way he’d been acting - how he had miraculously adopted this protective and caring quality that was even remote to him. He was completely aware of this shift in himself, and while it didn’t scare him to think he had the potential to both warrant and garner these feelings, he was glad to not be observed in the process of accepting this. 

And it was a nice reprieve to be back on the estate, not that he’d had much rest himself. As it were, the days seemed endless as they bled into night, and then day again - all of which remained aglow by flame far off in the distance. 

Of course the grounds were protected, and remained uninterrupted, intact - as many a landmark of the old world would be. Anything Lucifer had deemed worthy would stand to remain in the New Beginning, and this undoubtedly included the estate, which was likely the safest place in existence. Coming here had been the best choice for them and he took this time of rare solitude to appreciate the dark mythical beauty of what was essentially his home.

It was in no way disenchanting, however steeped in unholiness, and an annoying part of him hoped she would feel the same when she awoke.

Likewise, in the days to come, life would transform by mythical proportions and unimaginable possibility would come forth. He knew the opportunities would be endless, and he grew excited with that knowledge, recognizing it’s significance because he truly needed her to know that she had not been saved in vain. She would have everything she desired, and she would know that it was because of him.

Truthfully, he had already been living a life on indulgence, fearlessly so, but now everything seemed multi-faceted. He thought maybe now, life would be something new for the both of them, something they could create and share together.

It was crazy, but the thought made him feel less…lonely. 

The entire Clergy did in fact live in exacting luxury and he, more than most, had become immensely accustomed to their elevated position of power but he’d never shared in those experiences on this level - with a potential companion. It was something to be proud of and he felt somewhat glorified, but mostly smug knowing he had brought her here - to the pinnacle of this new world and he'd be the one to show her. 

She really couldn’t have been more lucky, he thought, needing her to wake up so he could boast about this, about all of it. He also wanted to know her, learn her name to begin. It probably wasn’t significant, but he felt that it would bridge the gap- moving them from strangers to something more. It would be the start.

\----------

He checks on her sleeping form periodically, but otherwise occupies himself away from his bedroom where she rests. Its methodical for her safety and his sanity, because he finds that when he looks at her, every disgusting part of him wants her. He's a fire ghoul, after all, and he doesn't deny his attraction. 

He’s conjured sinful thoughts over the days, and they begin to haunt him in a frustrating way- a way that forces him to practice restraint from his natural instincts. Seeing her reminds him also of how long its been since he’s fucked, like so long that he can’t even remember or was it just that the others were never memorable? At least…not like this, not like her. 

It was all so tempting, even if it was wrong. Her defenseless state was a heavy topic in his musings because it afforded so many possibilities. How could he not entertain the idea when the feast was literally there for the taking? Not that he was above acting on the whims of his desires, per say, but even he knew the idea was monstrous in the extreme. 

He could have done so many things. Anything really, but he wasn’t that ghoul and more importantly, he knew she was worthy of more. That knowledge humbles him by degrees, because truthfully, she hadn’t asked for this. He had absolutely decided her fate for her, and he intended to protect her because of it, even if it meant also protecting her from himself. She deserved that much - respect, even if he had none. 

But fuck! He’d look at her, sometimes a bit too long and find himself sighing.

Just her face and the way her hair cascaded around her on his pillow would get him hard. But he was good, had remained steadfast in his resistance to pull the covers back and fuck her in her state of unconsciousness. It always left him so wanting as he internalized his need to the point of physical pain. It was fucking killing him, and his desire would get so severe at times that he’d become irrationally angry.

Truthfully, we wasn't used to not getting his way or denying himself what he wanted. 

In his nature to feel this deeply, he always allowed the anger - knowing it needed to run its course. Unfortunately, the anger always seemed to manifest itself through many thrown objects and broken glass, sometimes even violence although there was nobody to punch at the moment. It always left him temporarily appeased create this damage, but then other thoughts would integrate within him. There were contemplations on why he needed to act out in this way, and that too became a grave annoyance for him- being steeped in all this self-awareness.

To an extent, he had grown accustomed to others cleaning up the irreverent mess he’d always left in his wake. He was a favorite, despite being a pain in the royal ass, but it seemed, at least up until now, that the consequences of his behavior were always someone else’s responsibility to deal with. Whether it be Copia or his brothers, someone always took his side or made excuses for him. He had been completely enabled, for years.

But now, he was on his own.

He had to be level headed here and he realized in doing that, he was learning more about himself in the process than ever before. He almost didn’t recognize these parts of him, still reeling in disbelief that he hadn’t at least taken his visual fill of her body, touched parts of her that were more “safe”. In fact, he really hadn’t touched her at all since he’d laid her down in his bed.

Of course he wanted to...who would have known any wiser? And especially now having knowledge of how she felt in his arms, how soft she was…how perfect. It hungered him, endlessly and he became more impressed by his level of resistance in spite of this. His attraction was so fucking undeniable that he wanted to have her in a way that could destroy her and probably leave him hating himself.

The violence of his appreciation was just a part of him, and he hadn’t ever known or taken the time to explore anything other than that. He’d never been shown “love” in the ways others boasted of it, how it supposedly stemmed from some deep emotional connection with another. He’d never felt that, so it was easier for him to dismiss the idea, thinking it impossible to miss something that didn’t exist. Despite his stance on this, he was aware of affection and that he was capable of giving it, although it often manifested in less traditional ways. 

In captivating someone who attracted him, someone with reciprocated interest, he'd invest. He’d fulfill his partner’s needs in an attentive way that was typically always beneficial for him too, especially when the sex turned tumultuous. He felt therein laid his affection, so quintessential with his lust; the physical pleasures of the body, and he derived much of it through licking, often and with abandon. Sometimes it was more than enough, sometimes he didn't even have to use his dick.

Time was another great value, so he had often felt that his interest in someone should feel rewarding for them, especially in consideration of how fast he moved through life. And because no relations were ever lasting, as was his intention, he’d often take the extra time when he was with someone to make them feel central in his world. He’d catch them, connect and then cast aside. 

He could be a master manipulator, mind fucking most anyone into submission and although his motives were not always serving to the cause, it kept life interesting. He looked at it as a sport of sorts, and it displayed the lewdness within him while also satisfying his physical needs. Additional benefits here were that it always fed his ego and grew his reputation. 

But in the same way he wanted to fuck her senseless, as he had with so many others before her, he’d take one look at her sleeping form and snub the thought. The direction of this thoughts would lean towards feelings of protection as he memorized her face, thinking back to how he had found her - alone and so very brave. It made him possessive, and she was such a pretty thing.

She had become rather precious to him, rare in a way he had no previous reference to draw from. She was utterly new, incomparable and in a way - he thought her almost too pure. That revelation should have been more than he was willing to pursue, but something inside of him left some doubt for further exploration. He knew he was objectifying her a great deal and he just didn't fucking care. 

The mystery surrounding this nameless girl was bewitching the shit out of him, and if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want her to hate him. What he found he wanted was for her to absolutely need him, and the idea of this tamed him for the time being. 

He knew he’d have to be patient, that she would wake soon.


	6. In the Garden of Beasts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dew takes a walk around the grounds to blow off steam and tend to some other needs...

It doesn’t happen soon enough, and his patience begins to wear thin around the third day when he finds himself roaming the grounds. He’s worked hard to remain occupied, and now its strategized for more than just a means to pass the time.

He stalks through the gardens in an attempt to quell his anticipation of her eventual awakening. He’s grown antsy in the wait and its tiresome when the memory of her lips floods through his mind again and again. It plagues him constantly, and he begins conjuring many images of her and of them together. He can almost feel the pressure on his neck, where she had held on so tightly.

Its uncontrollable, hitting him with full impact now, harder than all the other times before and he has to stop himself from running back to her. Damn her, he has to control this need before he does something regrettable, and it can’t wait. He has to touch himself. He’s tired and he’s hot and he’s hard. Damn it all.

The strain against his tight pants is painful and he’s intent on releasing himself, but not before his deft fingers unbutton his tailcoat. Its a wonder he's even wearing it! It has to be removed, and he's boiling despite the coolness of the afternoon when he throws it aside. In passing, he notes the dewiness in the air and is certain the rain will fall soon, any day now. But it doesn’t really matter. 

What matters is his cock and the sobering reality that he’s not burying it straight into the woman laying in his bed. Its a fucking tragedy that he has to get himself off, unable to even retreat inside for privacy because the urgency of his need it too great. Of course, that also doesn’t matter because he’s completely alone and its not like he's modest anyway. But what startles him is the force of his desire, how sudden its hit him and how imperative it is for him to come.

He’s hot in his own hand, pumping violently in a way that strains the muscles of his arm. The air feels so thick and he’s gasping, finding it hard to breathe between his haphazard moans. He thinks of her, envisioning his hand to be hers and when he licks his own lips, he pretends it hers. Its uncontrollable and he can’t stop. His legs feel weak, but he goes faster as the wall behind him supports his weight. He leans then, pressing his shoulders into the rock as he pushes his hips out.

He's a flexible bitch when he begins emulating the motion of fucking. 

In his mind, the palm of his hand that encircles his cock becomes her mouth and she’s fucking taking all of him. He shuts his eyes tighter, and he can almost see that gorgeous face, how it would be streaked with tears from the strain in her jaw and the sensation of his cock hitting the back of her throat. She’d be such a good girl, willing to please and so very accepting of his violent moves to fuck her mouth.

He's so close now and he can’t decide if he would have wanted to come on her tongue or somewhere else, then his mind wanders to her tits glistening in cum...and he explodes. He cries out a slew of unholy fucks, loosening his grip gradually as he empties his desire and his thighs tremble. Its so fucking good! His movements slow, but he continues the touch with a soothing stroke long after he’s come, wondering if she would be as hot as he’d just imagined.

It makes him weak in the knees in contemplation of this, knowing the probability of the real thing happening for him isn’t a far reach. The way she held onto him, kissed him so deeply. He just knew she would be a giving lover, and the idea sustains him.

He’s deliciously sated then and he lets his legs go. His breath is still shaky as he slides his back down against the wall to sit in the grass. He works to even out his breathing and he realizes how much of a damn mess he's made, but he doesn’t care. He revels in the fleeting euphoria of his orgasm, how its left his body relaxed, rid of all the building tension of the past few days. He vows not to wait this long next time, even if it has to be by his own hand, at least he now has the perfect subject to fantasize over.

Several minutes pass and he begins to get dreamy, drunk on the taste of his own cum as he licks his fingers clean. The thunder lulls his temptation as the distant booms surround the grounds. It calms him, and he contemplates the lay down that his body is now demanding. Its so very tempting, he thinks, as he tucks himself back into his pants and straightens his suspenders.

Fuck it. He gives in, stretching out on the green earthen floor then and he closes his eyes.

It just feels so nice.


	7. Nocturnal Me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dew creates some bedroom ambience, reminiscing on enchanted waters and Selene awakes, spellbound by her surroundings.

He can’t believe he’s slept and by indication of nightfall, its been several hours. Slumbering in the garden is a first for him and he’s surprisingly regretful when he gets to his feet to leave, but he knows he should probably get inside. Its unlikely that she will be awake, but he thinks to at least check in on her before tasking himself with cleaning the mess he’d made earlier in Swiss’s room.

Grabbing his tailcoat from a nearby hedge, where it hangs unceremoniously amidst the foliage, he heads back towards the building. Feeling immeasurably better, he takes two steps at a time up to his wing, thinking he’s more than capable of exercising his patience now that he’s finally gotten off. He maintains this resolve as he re-enters the bedroom quietly, and his line of vision goes straight to the bed where he confirms her to be - yes, still asleep. He begins lighting candles, just a few of the many that fill his room. 

He’s creating a welcoming glow to the space with sporadic flicks of his fingers, loving the way his element singes their wicks as the flames begin to dance. Theres a bit of a chill in the air too, so more for her benefit than his, he ignites the fireplace to a low burn before making his way to the window that overlooks the grounds. He’s calm in his perusal of the courtyard, seeing very little of it through the fog thats settled in. Its undoubtedly mixed with the haze of the fires, knowing they have yet to dissipate - that everything still burns a destructive path in the name of Satan. 

Its less present here though, the smoke, which makes it less obvious that the world has ended, and its no big leap to assume they’re in a different time now, especially after encountering the fire first hand, as she had. But he still worries, hoping it won't alarm her and given their current surrounding, he thinks she might not even believe it to be true.

Because weren't humans fed to believe only the most terrible things about the apocalypse?

Where they are is anything but terrible, save maybe him but even in thinking that - he isn't giving himself enough credit. He'd been near perfect in the tranquility of being home, tame- as it were, in the eerily beautiful silence of the estate and they could easily have been the only two in existence. To him - it is only them and that thought stays him with the knowledge that they’re alone and she is safe. He’s quite certain that she won’t want for more than this, because he can provide most anything she'd desire. But even in these self-assurances, he’s still failing to control the nagging anxiety of how she might react to where she is, who she's with and why she's alive.

He can’t begin to imagine what she will be like once rested, healed and fully lucid to comprehend her new reality. He thinks she won’t be one so easily fooled, so he’s resolved to give her facts and the time she needs to process all the revelations that will hit her. He wonders what she will remember and the silence is deafening as the thought floats and he consider this. It leaves him brooding again, this time over her lips and he's certain she would never recall this.

Damn. He sees it behind his eyes in contemplative memory now and he has no explanation for it. He had kissed her...again.

As he carried her home, he had contemplated the best care and was immediately reminded of the powerful healing source on clergy grounds. He’d never actually been there, only ever mildly interested in the lore behind it, but it seemed pertinent above anything else and he put full trust in Rain’s confidence of it’s capabilities. Upon arrival, he’d taken them straight to The Lake of Enchantment and it had worked.

Despite his small aversion to water, the element was still deeply embedded within him and it had given way to a calming effect that overtook him and allowed his hold on her to grow with care. He remembers clearly how the water pooled, glistening on her skin when he submerged them both, and of how the lake had encompassed them in a way that seemed baptismal in nature. It had moved him, compelled to wash her body and hair with a dedicated adamance to remove every last remnant of what she’d endured - all the terrible things, even those in which he had been responsible for. 

He had the decency to be ashamed, but he wasn’t sorry and he wasn't fucking blind. It hadn't been lost on him the way her wet clothes had clung onto every curve of her or how her body responded of its own accord to the coolness of the water, then the air and the caress of his fingers upon her skin. And while his intent to bring her to the water hadn’t been meant for his benefit, he had greatly benefited from an unapologetic visual and by way of touch. His eyes had feasted endlessly on her and he'd kept her close in a firm hold to him long after they'd left the water.

He held her as if she were a doll, perhaps that of porcelain and she could have been with the measures he took to gently lay her down, a revived perfection in his bed. He’d gone to great lengths to change her dressing too, stealing from a random wardrobe and intent to be modest when he put her in new clothes. He couldn’t fathom why… perhaps because of his waning guilt at her plight in the first place. Maybe. 

That aside, he convinces himself that she had been dreaming when he covered her within the fine bedding, surrounded lavish and warm when he leaned in and kissed her lips. And he had kissed her long, in a way that might have promised something more. 

That she might belong to him...

The thought snaps him back to reality then, and he’s forever fucking amused by the direction of his thoughts these days, of how she’s turning his life upside down without even trying. Its frustrating, but it entertains him in the madness and its enough to make him laugh. In the reflection of the glass, he knows he looks crazy and he feels crazy - much more than usual. 

\----------

She wakes at the sound, lulled out of dream and into full consciousness of her surroundings and physical comfort. There was the sound of thunder and him, that ominous silhouette of darkness she had seen so many times in her dreams. But it wasn’t merely in dream that his image had been conjured, for she sensed familiarity of it’s own accord when she looked to him, knowing she had seen him in and out of sleep. 

She wasn’t overly concerned with this knowledge, even if she should have been. Nothing surprised her anymore, and it seemed that nothing scared her either. She awoke with clarity, having the mind to acknowledge that she was safe and she noted the extreme measure of care she had been given. She could breathe and she could see, undoubtedly alive after all. Her body felt only mild soreness, and it had been cleaned, warmed and rested within the comfort of the grand bed she laid in.

The bed frame was ornate and dark, luxuriant and somehow reminded her of home as she had remembered it. The fleeting memory was a painful stab though, so she advanced to movement. Slowly sitting up, she takes in the high ceilings of the room in admiration, how they're painted with skill that challenges works from the Renaissance. The imagery is dark, and she admires it, how suitable a style it is to her host. His appreciation for opulence was apparent of the room as her eyes continued their scan to the dark walls, adorned with mostly occult subjects in gilded frames and mirrors.

The time period is indistinguishable by design, as all indicators of the room’s decor contradicts each other. It simultaneously confuses her and ignites her curiosity, and she's aware that this poses as a buffer to the darker reality of her life, the world. One might consider this a ploy for a distraction, because really - she had seen so much, things uncomprehending and surely the truth was too heavy.

And it was, but she knew it all to be true and she was assured of this by just a glance towards the window, where her demon angel stood. She knew all this was because of him and it didn't move her to fear or even anger. 

Her eyes adjust further through the dimness of the room and she continues her visual discovery. She notes the grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling at the center of the room, and also how there are modernized recessed lights although those remain unlit. In their place to function as a light source are black candles, and they burn from various candelabras of size and shape to cast a brilliant glow 

The east wall houses many books, and they look to be age-old, timeless as if carried through centuries. There’s also a sitting area with grand chairs upholstered in black textiles, but what really catches her eye is the inviting chaise lounge that sits amongst them and its contrasting color of flaming red. Its completely out of place with the tone of the room, an intentional piece to have and she thinks the fieriness of it somehow suits the figure still stood at the window quite well.

She's about to look back to him, can still hear his faint laughing- of what, she isn't sure. But then, something from the shadowed corner at the far end of the room pulls her stare. In a section where the low-lit fireplace of dancing embers don’t quite carry to, she catches sight of several white guitars, mere phantoms in the darkness all lined up identical, beautiful and beckoning. The instruments intrigue her most of all, staying forefront in her mind even as her eyes finally turn from them to follow the moving silhouettes of the swaying trees outside.

Their shadowed waltz across the black and white marbled floor takes her back to him. 

He's in profile, dressed in all black too, although she can't really make out the details of his clothing. He casts a dark figure, every part of him except for the shimmering metallic of his mask, those horns...

He's still unaware of her awakening, so she takes advantage to consider him. Even from afar, she's truly enamored with the figure of him, which although isn't overbearing in physicality, still exudes strength and solidity. There is also an elegance to him that's striking in form- just the way he's standing and how the lines of him connect with grace. She catches an air of defiance in his posture, how he shifts with dangerous energy and keeps his head leveled.

There's just really so much about him, things she can’t even pinpoint to an explanation and it defines him for her in an enigmatic way. It draws her, the attraction of him and the mystery that surrounds him. She wants to unearth it though, know him in the way that she knows he's the reason for all of this- her new existence, her breath. Theres a great sense of gratitude towards him that she feels, and it flows through her now, overwhelmingly so. It compels her to speak.

She acknowledges that he's obviously been waiting for this moment awhile now, and its clearly been driving him mad by indication of the low maniacal sound he makes at his own reflection. She's resolved in the idea of discovering him, the one she had misguidedly taken for the Angel of Death, and while she knew now that he wasn't that - he was the one who saved her.


	8. Tightrope walker.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dizzying up the girl.

“Whats so funny?”

Her voice is warm, laced in calm curiosity as her inquiry travels across the room and caresses him. It breaks his reverie, shutting him up from his laughter to turn abruptly and find her easily within the dimness of the room. He thinks her every bit the vision of the first time he laid eyes on her, how otherworldly she seems. Such a fucking goddess, its unreal to think she could ever be a mere mortal.

Tousled dark hair and alabaster skin glowing in the candlelight, she’s sat within the dark bedding of pooled sheets and she's waiting for him inquisitively. She absolutely belongs in his bed and he finds himself annoyed again by the direction of those thoughts, and how he could ever possibly dream of claiming her to be angelic on looks alone. Its so far removed from his catalogue, but damn if it couldn’t be true.

She's too beautiful and he wants her. The feeling only intensifies when he feels the full weight of her stare, and he's never really been on the receiving end for such looks. Without even knowing, she's actually beating him at his own game, which excites him, but more importantly - he doesn't read confusion or fear on that gorgeous face of hers. It relieves him, thinking how much more difficult this situation could be with a kicking and screaming bitch. But not her. Of course not her - this brave soul.

He still hasn't responded to her and the delay in response sets her in motion. Her clear lack of patience amuses him, while also endearing him, and he watches her make her way out of the bed. She's clumsy on her feet at first, then more assured in her steps as they carry her straight to him. Its sort of…cute, but then his mind draws a blank when she draws closer, and he forgets to breathe entirely.

Its not until she’s stood just a small measure from him, that he finally acknowledges his own exhale of breath. He fleetingly wonders why he’s so satisfied to find her eye level with him, perhaps slightly taller, but only just, which isn't a reach. He isn't that tall, but he has more height than he's ever given credit for in comparison to his brothers. He's not bothered by his physicality, by any of it and she doesn't appear to be either, but what thrills him the most is the notion that they are equal in this way. 

He feels detached from himself as he works to process the feelings building within - like why he’s suddenly hit with an overwhelming need to meet her approval, have her acceptance. Its so foreign to him, as attracting lovers was never an issue, but this is different. True - he had never cared before what anyone thought, but nobody had ever quite looked at him the way she was now. It stirs him. Although he isn’t entirely acquainted with the emotion, she seems to be looking at him with gratitude, and he's sure that his eyes are telling a different story.

He is more or less content that she's grateful toward him, knowing its a start, but then his ego resurfaces to remind him that he's going to need so much more from her than this. He stiffens the impulse to grab her by the arms - just because he can - and pull her against him. Instinctually, he'd ply her mouth open with his lips and shove his tongue down her throat. Its an alluring idea, having seemed an eternity for opportunity to arise for him to get back there again, to kiss her. He's so certain her mouth would be a giving one, succulent without the taste of smoke now or he would make it so and she would enjoy it. He already knew of her kissing capabilities, that she’d very likely be an active participant, irresistible to his affinity for pleasuring. He was top-notch in that department, and it justified his urgency to want to own this woman.

But then the thought occurs just how very nice it would be if she did the initiating, and he finds that he wants that more. He's drawn to the idea of her pursuit, only beginning to imagine the artful ways in which she might prove her thanks to him. As quickly as these thoughts begin to formulate, they're dissipated by the movement of her reaching out.

The electric touch is interrupting when she caresses his masked face. 

This never happened- nobody ever touched him with such intimacy, and here she had done in twice now in the short time he’d unknowingly threaded her into his life. Its obvious that he had been missing this segment of physical touch, one that bespoke of affection, and as most things were certain to be with her, this was entirely new. And he has no idea how to react, knowing only that he likes the contact, so by instinct alone, he decides to move into her touch. Its lovely, and he has to resist the urge to begin a low purr as he connects the genuine endearment that seems to exude from her. Yes, he's living for the attention, even in so innocent a touch. 

She was unafraid before, but his reaction encourages her to linger with her touch a bit longer, and they're both aware of how quickly this is advancing into uncharted territory. Despite being mere strangers to the other, there is trust and something else- mysterious and unspoken between them. Without explanation, there is respect and they both feel it, comforted out of a singular loneliness. He allows his eyes to drift and close for the moment.

They have each other now.

\----------

It’s almost too fucking much for him when he looks in her eyes again, finding them now blurred with tears that threaten to fall. And then she's crying, silent as he watches the tears glide down her cheeks, free flowing and unashamed. He assumes everything is hitting her with full impact, all that has happened, and what will be. Its imperative that she understands this, and he knows that she does.

She looks at him apologetically, as if to excuse her display of emotion, but its unfounded. He wants her to know she isn’t alone, that this is okay, so he catches her hand to assure her and the contact of their skin is magnetic. They both pause at the sensation as his warmth begins to transfer and course back into her. It stills them in the silence, and they both find themselves enamored by the juxtaposition of their coloring - how very striking and beautiful the sight of his hand- impossibly jet, the deepest of black holds onto hers of milky porcelain. 

She’s never beheld anything quite like this, and she's spellbound by the strength and dexterity of his grasp, how adamantly he holds onto her now. She knows she’s not breathing when she looks upon the brilliance of his blue eyes, how gorgeously stark they are framed by the darkness of his skin, his clothes, everything that surrounds him.

He is indescribable. 

His stare is intense and although she wants to get lost there, she has to look away as the room begins to spin. She feels faint in the remembrance of who she is, of what has happened, every thing and every one she has undoubtedly lost. But there is his touch, and the demon angel reinforces his grip on her fingers at the start of her faltering balance. She knows the stream of consciousness is slipping with immediacy now.

Its uncontrolled, but she finds relief when he pulls her into his arms and his shoulder provides the perfect resting place for her face as her eyes begin to close. He repositions his stance to support her weight as she goes fully lax, leaving him in a mixed state of annoyance and amusement. He thinks her very strange and beautiful, and then he’s protective again, adoring even, when he turns his face to look at her in the close proximity of their embrace. He feels the heat of her breath on him, near his ear, and everything she whispers to him seems so intentional.

“Please don't let me go.”

He knows he won’t, assured of this as he properly scoops her up to take back to the bed. In the short time it takes to get there, he reacquaints himself with the loveliness of her curves, how they fill his hands and he’s aflame again with lust in seconds. This woman- he’s really unsure of what he’s going to do with her, musing the possibilities as he covers her body again. He has so many ideas of what he wants to do TO her, if only she would stay awake long enough, but it would seem he’d have more time ahead of him to wait for this sleeping beauty.

How utterly inconvenient.

He knows he essentially has all the time in the world, and he cares enough to think of her recovery as important, but for fuck’s sake - he can feel himself going mad as he struggles to maintain control. He's hanging onto his last thread of patience, which has never been his strong suit. He's not like Aether after all, and this feels like the ultimate testing of his will in demonstrating his capability of putting someone before himself.

Its worth it, he knows, but to be truthful, his lack of a proper sleep since returning here hasn't been helpful. He's exhausted, unfocused to the point that he isn't moved to play the guitar, to eat or much of anything else to occupy the time while his guest slumbers. He's fully aware that he's being a brat, but he chalks all the emotions up to a combination of hysteria in light of the world ending, as well as his fitful bouts of plaguing insomnia. Then of course - her. 

He thought that spell had finally ended when she flounced out of bed of her own accord just moments ago, but alas his hopes had reverted so soon to leave him sulking instead. It had happened all too soon, seeing her eyes and hearing her voice. He feels entirely robbed of those delights, but he's fueled by the haunting memory of her lips, the way they had kissed before amidst the burning trees and although tainted with smoke at the time, the sweet taste of her. She had been sweeter than anyone he had ever kissed both in taste and technique.

He needs so much as he contemplates the taste of her skin, the absolute taste of her and how he's dying to have her on his tongue. He's ravenous, a demon reduced to low growls of frustration now as he aims them towards the temptress in his bed, the one who's left him wanting again in this unending predicament of suppressed need. It feels like hell to him, which really says something, and he considers himself to be in deep shit because it had taken very little effort on her part to make him feel this way. 

The sight of her, coupled with the sound of that slightly deep and raspy voice coming from her had done things to him. He wasn't dreaming, either or perhaps giving himself enough credit. He knew she wanted him too and he uses that knowledge now to tame his want in reflection of this truth.

Although subtle, it had been clear to him in a sensory way, from her look and her touch, to the way her voice deepened and chest heaved when she stood before him. So many outliers of her attraction, and even more anatomically speaking, her scent of desire had filled his senses. And while he was boastful of that fact, it was almost more than he could have believed. She had given indications that she wasn't even aware of, things for which he happened to be hypersensitive to, and they had worked in his favor. It sustains him, for it all held so much promise.

He reaches out then to trace her lips with his fingertips, knowing they're inevitable. It has to be enough for now.


	9. The Beautiful and the Damned.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selene has fitful dreams and Dew plays with fire.

He reinvigorates himself with fire, lighting the empty hallways as he does his nightly traipse through the wings of the estate. It passes the time and levels his energy to a standard tolerance, enough to keep him engaged without going completely feral and off the walls. If anyone else had been here, he’d certainly have fucked around for some entertainment, and the notion leaves him momentarily missing his brothers. Of course, he could function on his own and he definitely needed those moments to himself, but not now.

Just absolutely not now.

He feels himself begin to brood and his thoughts go dark again. He's restless, recognizing his need for attention and how its no less insatiable in the absence of others. The concept of this felt needy, stupid - even to him, but he was beginning to feel entirely useless and it shamed him. But there it was - he wanted attention and to be needed, so like…couldn’t the bitch in his bed just stay the fuck awake?

All these musings, questions unanswered quickly turn his mood black and he gets more dangerous with his fire tricks as a means to redirect his budding anger. It hits him with every step he takes, just how tired he is- calculating at most, a handful of hours over the days combined. The garden nap had been such a needed reprieve, but the benefits of that rest had unfortunately now fully worn off. 

And now he's left with boredom, absentmindedly setting a painting on fire, one of his favorites actually, just for spite when the Monstrance clock strikes the hour of three. He’d forgotten how loud the chime was and it seems to ring continuous, jarring his ears in a violent way that leaves an echoing in his head for several minutes. Its a curious thing, but he doesn't question it. He imagines he might be seeing and hearing things that aren't real as a side effect of his sleep deprived ass. But as he turns the corner of the final corridor that leads him back to his bedroom, he realizes he's wrong. 

\----------

His footsteps carry him quickly down the hall, increasing in pace as he draws nearer and her screams become more prominent. Fucking shit, they sound panicked, no - more than that, unnatural and he worries that she might be in danger, although he knows that can’t possibly be true. And it wasn’t true, at least physically, because she was completely safe within the room, and still in bed when he burst through the doors to find her. 

She was fitful, trapped in sleep as she subconsciously fought whatever visions plagued her mind in dream. He knew better though, that these were nightmares manifesting from memory, what she had seen and felt, everything. He hated that for her, knowing it couldn’t have been easy, but he was assured it would get better. He’d promise her that, task himself with it, because he knew he had to take responsibility. He had chosen for her. 

The realization sets him into motion and he's back at the bed immediately, untangling her legs from the sheets in the hopes that freeing them might calm her. His touch, however, seems to have the opposite effect as she begins kicking violently towards him. It compels him to use more force, and he's glad for the opportunity to finally exhibit some of this pent up emotion when he presses her legs into the mattress and jumps on top of her to straddle her at the waist. 

He leverages his weight to tame her moving hips as he grabs at her arms to steady them as well. He knows he has to get her body under control before he can work to ease her out of sleep, this devil of a dream she's experiencing. She has strength as she fights against his touch, exhibiting instinctual reflexes that one might use while being attacked, but he's stronger.

Grabbing each of her wrists in a tight grip, he thinks to pin her arms above her head to garner more control of her movements in an effort to still her, but he feels her resistance almost immediately. She follows with a panic cry and it splits something in him to hear her this way, and to see her so terrified, helpless. He knows he has to do more, so with care he slowly releases his hold from her wrists and slips his hands to hold hers instead.

Its a curious thing that all these small touches should affect him in their simplicity, but they do. The physical connection sends a calm over them both, it soothes her into silence as she rests back against the bed, and he knows its stemmed from the comfort he's providing. He also feels the grip of her fingers tighten on his, suggesting she needs more- that she needs to be held and it needs to be by him. He shifts then, rising back onto his knees as they remain on either side of her. She still needs to wake up, so with violent force meant to do just that, he pulls her into his arms.

The motion is fast as she's pulled upright, and then theres the sudden impact of her collision. It brings her back to lucidity, back to him. 

She’s breathless, but safe as he keeps her tightly against him for the moment. Her eyes adjust slowly in recognition of the room when she opens them, but she’s mostly unseeing. She registers that its still the middle of the night from her stolen glance towards the window, and she has no idea how long she's been out, but it doesn't matter. She only cares about the comfort of his warmth and the way that his heart is beating thunderously against her ear where it lays. 

It reminds her of the bells in her dream, just much faster, the haunting sounds of ritual- something indicative of sacrifice and it sends a shiver down her spine. From memory, she can’t recall physical violence or pain, but the uneasiness of the dream lingers. It had felt so real, but the visual wasn’t there - only a fleeting sense of dread. She doesn’t want to think of it though, knowing its pointless to dwell since she is not at risk, so she shifts her focus to the present, towards the tenderness in the way she’s being held.

It’s true.

Demon angel is exhibiting so much patience as he soothes her worries. He rubs a hand against her back in continuous motion, and she eases into him more at the start of his nails scratching lightly through the thin fabric of her nightdress. He also eases her mind significantly with his touch, gentle in his approach when he motions for her to move away from his chest so that he can look at her face, so he can speak to her. Its too soon though.

He realizes this as she reinstates her hold on him, wrapping her arms tighter around his waist as she buries her face back into his chest. He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy this, so he allows it to continue a few moments longer, indulging in the way she clings to him. Its so easy for him to advance his fingers just a short while later, delving and tangling them into her hair in a way he knows no human can resist, but its not solely for her benefit either. He revels in the dark softness of it, and the convenient length that allows him to twist and knot it around his hand in a firm grip.

Its methodical when he tugs with gentle force, moving her face away from his body and into his sight again. He falls back to sit with his weight partially on her legs so that they’re eye level, and it’s actually intimate as fuck, although he would prefer that their positions were reversed and she was the one straddling him. But he knows there would be a time for that… For now, this is most advantageous for him because without being overbearing, his position affords him the control he's been craving. 

Its a casual entrapment in which he holds her with his body, and he can't think of a more appropriate moment for them to finally make their acquaintance. He’s waited forever. 

\----------

He holds her captive in a stare when her eyes slowly open to meet his, and just as before, she’s unafraid. It pleases him, just as her reaction perplexes him - he can't comprehend how he's actually the source of ease that now seems to flow through her with relief. In truth, he's actually the haphazard one thats pushes people past their limits. He's constantly testing others in the extreme, in ways that he knows makes them want to off him. But his effect on her is anything but that.

The life seems to comes back into her skin with vivid color then, and he can feel her eyes searching his as he continues his visual intake of her features. What a beautiful face, he muses silently, on another level in wakefulness that he couldn't have anticipated and she's so sooo close. He needs to have a name with which to call her, thinking it too simplistic and too fucking obvious to keep referring to her as Beauty or…Sleeping Bitch. As he unravels her hair from his grip, he realizes he’s the one who hasn’t actually spoken a word in the time they’ve been together, and with that consideration - he asks a simple question, one that sparks the beginning of everything. 

“Tell me your name.”

It isn’t a question as much as a demand and he acknowledges that he’s rough around the edges, how fully on display it is in this moment. But she doesn’t seem to mind, as she answers almost immediately. 

Selene. 

Somehow, he wasn’t expecting that, but it fits her in the way it carries the idea of strength, and darkness, and mystery within. Theres something old world, haunting about her that he can’t quite place and it worries him even less that she’s holding his face again. Its demure in touch, but its also fire when she looks into his eyes, whispering the question of why he wears the mask. He's certain she is wondering so many things as he considers also the horns, his choice of dress and maybe even his nervous energy at her nearness.

Surely its not palpable, but if it is, its not affecting her as far as he can see. He studies her face, watching her as she follows the movement of her own finger tracing against the cool lines - the features of the mask that aren’t his true features, but depict enough. The illusion isn’t so far removed underneath, at least not in his opinion, but it’s impossible for most to know that.

Its rare for any ghoul to go unmasked, usually only doing so in the greatest of comforts and privacy, and rarer still- in someone else’s presence. He’s aware that he hasn’t responded to her inquiry, admiring that his silence hasn’t deterred her from her exploration of something almost inexplainable, even to him. She doesn't press him on this further.

“What is your name?”

He really appreciates that she’s persistent, although not pushy as she moves onto the next question, clearly resolved to explore other facts about him. He’s pleased that she’s invested her interest immediately in him, even above what he feels should have been more pressing for her to know, such as - what had happened, where were they, how was she alive...

But the sensations she's providing from her touch override all thought, as the heat from her transfers through and to his actual face. She's heating him up just as unintentionally as the natural warmth of his own body. He feels it when her finger goes to skim the edge of his mask, near his jaw in a non-threatening way, understanding that she doesn’t mean to challenge it’s removal when she does this, knowing she would absolutely fail in her attempt.

Its weird though, how she’s chosen this approach to draw him back to her in acknowledging the very thing that has stripped him of his identity in so many ways. The truth of the matter is that he's a nameless ghoul. Of course, a lot of names have circulated and been attached to him over the years- varied, based on the descriptors of his elemental sign, his personality, physicality and even his stage behavior.

That always made him immensely happy, being characterized so accurately and revered by the wiles that set him apart. It also always felt validating to him, that he seemed to carry worth beyond the clergy and could hold the interests of others on his own merit.

The name that always stuck the most was Dew, it just worked, and it’s what he provides to her now in answer.

\----------

She’s really looking at him, wanting to say so much from what he can tell. By her look and the way her eyes begin to search, he knows she really wants to ask him this next thing, but she's struggling to find the grace of words, hoping it won't be offensive. Honestly, he’s not easily offended and she’d hardly be the one to do so if she tried. Theres a natural sweetness in her demeanor that he notes right away, and although unfamiliar, he's drawn to that level of sensitivity and the awareness she seems to carry with her - “and who are you, Dew?”

“You mean, what am I?” He challenges her because he doesn’t want to tip-toe around the subject, instead urging her to ask this up front and acknowledge that she is in fact sitting in bed with a demon on her. 

“I think I know what you are, Dew- at least I have an idea, but it’s not what matters most.” She can see he’s taken aback by this, can sense the furrow of his brow behind his mask as he processes her words in confusion. When he remains silent, she continues- “What matters to me is that you’ve brought me here, kept me safe...I can’t even begin to imagine how much care you’ve taken to keep me alive.”

Her voice has a slight tremble of emotion as she considered the dire circumstances she’d been in, so very close to death before he had come. And although she's not ashamed at her display of emotion, his blue eyes are so piercing, the most brilliant blue that she has ever seen, it causes her to falter then. It’s important that she conveys her feelings without alarming him, but its equally important that he knows the extent of gratitude she has. Surely he can see her intrigue, and the attraction she harbors towards him as well.

It’s not lost on her that he's so very close, still on her in fact, but its a non-issue, for although he's solid, he's also compact and not overly heavy. And when he makes no immediate effort to move, she takes his hand from where it’s resting atop his thigh and slowly brings it up to her mouth. She kisses the top of it, smooth to the touch, masculine and veiny against her lips as they skim along the skin there. He allows this, saying nothing and it encourages her to linger and she wants to, because he’s beautiful. This is something she would do with a lover. 

“Dew, it’s you I want to know.” She hopes he can understand her resolve to better understand him, hoping he will remain with her as her companion through this new world. He’s all she has, after all- at least as far as she can imagine and either way, it matters because he is so important- he saved her life.

She owes him everything. 

\----------

All he can do is stare and he revels as his brain connects the sensations he feels against his hand from what her lips are doing. Its tame, and he would never have expected to be the intended recipient of such a gratuitous display. The moment draws out and Dew becomes overly warm, more so than usual. He gives into his desire without thought, startling her by way of her hitched breath when he pulls his hand from her lips.

He reinstates a grip around her fingers, and uses her for anchoring to get closer, and he kisses her. It isn’t gentle or hard, but rather in between as he attempts to gauge what direction they’ll choose to take. He’s curious of where their chemistry will lead them, applying just enough pressure to reinforce a balance and let the cards fall how they may. He finds some relief in this, feeling the tension of his desire fall away in fragments. 

Selene feels this too and meets him with equal intent to experience their connection openly. Parts of her refuse to think, knowing only that its so special to have the opportunity to connect with him and so soon. She’s never kissed anyone like him, but she feels it - that immediate draw, as if she’s been looking for him a thousand years. She knows him and not at all, but she feels as if she’s been waiting for this her entire life.

It was tragic what had happened, and it was madness to think more pressing realities weren’t at the forefront of her mind but none of them were important in this instance. She had all the self awareness, but surprisingly, or maybe not at all - the end of the world had awoken her to profound clarity and she knew there were many things that could never return or be explained.

Ultimately, she had been given a second chance, and that was the bigger picture - it was everything and it was now, here with him.

With that in mind, she shuts her eyes tighter and gets lost in Dew's kiss.


	10. A hunger for the new.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The connection between Dew and Selene intensifies + flaming draperies in the south wing.

Selene feels like she’s falling in slow motion, but the impact is sweet when Dew lays her back against the pillows and claims her mouth in renewed ardor. She knows he can feel her heart racing under his palm, and she loves the way it remains laid on her chest even after he's applied the pressure needed to move her down and hover above her. 

He moves then and plants both his hands on either side of her head, supporting most of his weight as she moves to grip his forearms. She keeps him close, but her fingers are aching to explore more of him, knowing that the embellishment of sensory touch will only increase their physical connection. Essentially, she just needs a signifier from him that this is okay to do and she continues to build her courage for the moment when he will.

Dew presents the opportunity fairly soon when he breaks the kiss, pulling back a small measure to readjust himself. His eyes are so intense, glittering with silent demand as he looks at her. She feels the nudge of his knee move between her and the pressure he exacts on her inner thigh to spread them takes her to another level. She sees only the blue depths of him as time begins to slow further and her hands move accordingly to his waist to stabilize him as he lowers himself onto her. 

The weight of him is delicious and he comes back to her swiftly, hot in her mouth with a delving tongue to taste and take from her. She’s heady, loving the impact of his hip bones and how they pierce against her with every subtle thrust he’s providing to stoke their fire. And although she wants more friction, more direct contact with him, she knows this is the perfect introduction for their bodies.

Their chemistry is volcanic, and they're both intuitive to the promise of what this holds for them.

It resolves her to enjoy the current exploration and she decides to capitalize on how tame Dew is at present, knowing she probably couldn’t handle further advancements from him right now, anyway. She just knows - she can tell that he’s nasty, and it would be a shame to think anything less than this. She actually can’t fucking wait for it to happen, to receive the full extent of his passion, but she also knows she isn’t quite ready yet. 

His capabilities are so clear to her in the way he communicates, how he’s doing so with his tongue and hot svelte body to give her so much. Everything about him exudes sex and it stirs her lust, thrills her to be the recipient of his attention.

He almost seems...too good for her.

Its an insecure notion thats been carried with her most of her life, and it annoys her now to realize it hasn’t diminished with time, with everything thats happened. She confuses even herself in this regard, how she can be unapologetically herself - proud and eccentric, yet also lack confidence, even now. While she never needed the approval of others to move through life, she always sought validation of her self-worth through worthy sources, those she felt deeply for. This was always most apparent where lovers were concerned, and she hated that she felt that now - this overwhelming need for Dew to want her. 

The thing is, he does. She knows he does, and fuck it - she wants him too. 

————-

She’s spurred by the reality of their mutual desire and her hands begin to linger from his waist to caress his back. She feels him shudder at the touch, one of deep pleasure because the sensation is ridiculously good, and he tells her this, demanding between kisses for her to do it again and again. 

He gets purry when she introduces her nails, providing a light clawing up between his shoulder blades and then down again to the small of his back, admiring the elegant curve along the way. 

Even in his state of euphoria, Dew is aware that he needs to allow her some air. He's been greedily stealing most of her breath for several minutes now, so he moves away from her mouth, relocating to her jaw to kiss into that sharp line of bone.

He’s generous with his tongue as he moves to open-mouthed kisses and she’s fucking swooning, closing her eyes to focus on his hot breath against her skin, how he wets her neck, then sucks on it. 

Her chest is rising fast against his and he can feel the squeeze of her thighs around his hips. It leaves him to fleetingly wonder why she hasn’t fully wrapped them around him yet. He’s dying for it, but the glide of her hands as they move onto his ass also sustains him. And when her fingers brush against his tail and she gives that small intake of breath in surprised wonder, his feelings towards her grow impossibly deeper. 

He wants it so bad, that lockdown from her that will make them whole - make him hers. He’s so ready for it, but the more rational part of his brain knows that she really isn’t ready - that she doesn’t know what she wants, or at least she doesn't know him enough to make the decision. Damn his logic, but its true and it takes everything for him to disentangle from her then and roll off the bed and back onto his feet again. 

It leaves Selene in a whirlwind, confused by his sudden action. Its written so clearly on her face, and he’s still satisfied with the moan of disappointment that escaped from her when he had pulled his lips away so abruptly. Good - she felt this too.

They were compatible in every way as this small demonstration of her passion had proven. It had provided insight into all their possibilities, and it exulted him to know she was waiting in just as much anticipation.

The delayed gratification would be worth it, he felt. 

———

The build up leaves them tempted, but Dew knows their path as lovers will eventually lead to things even he hasn’t fully contemplated. It all seems so imminent, ingrained like an unholy reading- and in this moment, he knows that he would do anything for her. He absolutely wants to do everything with her.

Her face of incredulity is sweet, forgiving towards him as he stands his distance away from her and the bed now. She’s flushed, slightly reeling from the loss of his touch, but it doesn’t deter her from sitting up and reaching out towards him. The gesture beckons him to come near, and he does after a brief consideration, seeing no veiled intent in her eyes. He takes that step forward, back to her as his hand goes up to hold hers.

Its welcoming when Selene wraps her fingers around his and they stare at each other in the silence of the night. They’re calling a truce in their contact, reducing their outward attraction to a low burn. He can’t help but smile, which isn’t something he does often, but he does so now as the mischief begins to formulate.

Its lighthearted when he tightens his grip, pulling her out of bed with a quick yank of his arm. She half expects it, but she yelps anyway at the jolt of the movement. Its forceful, enamoring to her how very strong he truly is and she’s laughing when she stumbles unbalanced onto her feet and back into his arms. Once there, she notes a passing worry in his eyes as she missteps and almost takes a tumble. However, she's quick to vocally reassure him that her clumsiness is mostly due to the stiffness of her legs, and their complete lack of use lately. 

What she intentionally fails to mention is how weak Dew also makes her feel, how she’s still living for the memory of his passion even now and the feel of him on top of her. So fucking hot. 

She’s both giddy and embarrassed at how ridiculous she must seem to him. She knows she’s been such a fucking damsel and that at the moment, she still seems to be failing hard to redeem herself. Even so, she appreciates his care and that he’s not passing judgment where she's concerned. Or rather, he's unbothered by insubstantial matters like that of her clumsiness, although its the very thing making her feel less confident by the minute.

What she couldn't have known was that it was actually endearing her to Dew even more, knowing that he was the source of those nerves.

She finally chances another look into his eyes, and she feels the burn of her face as the blush rises to the surface. Concern and curiosity are both still evident in his stormy depths, and it pulls her how he's making her feel- like she's of great importance, as if she were everything. 

This level of attention from him will forever move her. She just hopes she’s deserving of it. 

\----------

Dew has moved his hands to her waist in an immediate response to stabilize her as she reacquaints her limbs to motion. Its also quickly becoming second nature for him to touch her and this seems like the safest hold other than on her hand.

He had miscalculated the level of force in application of his playful endeavor, and he internally scolds himself now for trying to be cute with her. It reminds him that while she is strong, she is still fragile. 

Selene captivates him, how she can even laugh through any of this and be so open, so soon. He appreciates her trust and the fast familiarity of their closeness. Its so rare, and he thinks her rarer, still.

His worry fades as he feels the tension leave her body from beneath where his hands rest and her breathing returns to normal. She’s on solid footing now, reassuring that she won’t fall should he release her, and while it implies that he could let go of her, her eyes don’t seem to demand this of him.

In fairness, her hands are still gripping his shoulders and he’s fine with this too. 

She eventually speaks again, which is a good thing because he’s drawing a fucking blank on where he wants to go from here. His head is sending up warning flares to take this slow, but his body is still screaming in want of something entirely different. Its just an annoying fact he’s subjected himself to, but he knows it has to be this way. 

He has to know her more, he absolutely wants to.

He looks at her now, like so many times before and for some reason her big gorgeous eyes always startle him from internal reverie. They demand attention, his full presence and he feels that pull now, even as he knows she’s completely unaware of her effect. 

He’s wondering what his girl needs.

Its hard to read for Dew right now, because so much of her is still shrouded in mystery. He’s cognizant of the possibility for misinterpretation, so he decides not to chance it. He doesn’t want to guess at the direction of her thoughts for risk of ruining what they’ve built so far by being wrong.

Really, she could want anything. He just doesn’t know, but luckily she bestows him with that knowledge soon thereafter. He shouldn't be surprised, but he is.

“Dew, I’m actually starving…is there food?”

\----------

Of course! Sometimes he forgets about the more bane aspects of humanity, like their frequent need for food. It differs greatly from the sustenance needs of ghouls, so its never forefront in his mind to consider the kitchen. Surprisingly, he’s actually not opposed to consuming trash food, as he likes to call it, on occasion. 

And he knows Mountain would have definitely disagreed with his low opinion of this had he been here, knowing his affinity towards the culinary and apothecaric specialities. In fact, he can almost feel his brother’s disappointment now and it unearths a smirk from him.

Obviously Dew is unmatched in pyromania, oral technique and historically breaking hearts, so the issue is non-debatable.

These musings aside, he notes that Selene does seem rather pallid in complexion, despite the subtle rose of her. Its fading now, and her body is no doubt burning energy faster than she can restore it. It dawns on him that he may have waned in his care for her the last day or two, and it leaves him regretful, knowing he'd been shamefully temperamental in the hours that she slept.

He'd make it up to her though, knowing of the generous stock of food the cooks always kept in reserve and Dew is intent to fulfill this request. He wants to feed her, indulge her with anything she desires or has taste for... But he thinks maybe this will be more enjoyable for her once she's bathed and dressed in new clothing.

He suggests this and with much anticipation, awaits her response in the hopes it isn't interpreted incorrectly.

Selene isn’t offended, finding the idea of a bath a much better idea to start. She actually can’t stand the way her hair feels, a seemingly tangled mess and her skin feels clammy from her exertions in sleep. Now that she’s more aware of this, she realizes that she really doesn’t want to be near Dew until she can freshen up, in every way - especially brushing her teeth.

Oh fuck! She’s kinda mortified now thinking about it, how she's kissed him and been so close. While he didn’t seem to mind from her recollection, she definitely does. 

She silently acquiesces to Dew’s suggestion and allows him to lead her out of his bedroom. She immediately misses the feel of his warm hands holding at her sides, but he redeems that sense of loss when he effortlessly takes one of her hands instead to pull her along the dark hallway. 

—————

Its dawning on her quickly now how massive this place is as they walk, passing several black lacquered doors of what she assumes are other bedrooms. She still can’t figure out what this place is or where its located and while it doesn’t matter, she wants to know because she assumes this will be her home, just as it is his. 

The mansion is old and grand, beautiful in the way historic property is and she rather hopes for a full tour at some point, thinking the exploration would be a great opportunity to delve into this new world, where Dew lives and learn to love the place he inhabits.

Its not a reach, the estate is something out of the most opulent of gothic novels and she admires the massive windows and archways above as they walk. Its everything Selene has always loved and she’s about to mention this to Dew when she suddenly collides into his back.

He’s motionless for just a moment, unmoving as he comprehends the scene before him. Goddammit! He’s not alarmed, but he’s annoyed by his forgetfulness. Truthfully, he blames Selene for half of this, although he knows it’s entirely his fault that a portion of the south wing is on fire, burning draperies and all. He knew he shouldn't have taken his anger out on Memling's depiction of Hell, earlier.

But oh well, too late now. 

He knows the exact moment the flame catches her attention because she gives an unceremonious “holy shit!” near his ear. It amuses him that she’s this candid, he loves a dirty mouth.

When the traveling heat finally hits their skin from the distance, he turns to face her, taking note of the disbelief in her expression. But rather than distress because of the presence of fire, which could have been traumatic for her, she looks amused.

This is definitely his girl, he thinks - taking the extra measure to ensure she’s fine by asking and then he’s firm when he tells her to stay put.

\----------

Selene watches Dew run down the way, admiring his retreating form as he goes to put out the flames. He’s just so different, enigmatic in ways she can’t even begin to describe. She loves the rough exterior and thrilling nature of his personality, how upfront he is with his intentions whether he speaks them or demonstrates them with a look, by a touch. 

He has a danger about him, a darkness that provokes her heart and it races impossibly harder when she reminisces on his earlier displays of physical need and affection towards her. But theres something more there as well, an emotional weight behind what he’s providing and how he's choosing to share it with her.

She senses that these exquisite moments with him are infrequent, that their occurrence is beyond a rarity as he wouldn't be the type to give himself this freely to just anyone.

The value of that is absolutely precious to her, and she acknowledges that she’s in pretty deep, accepting what her heart wants as she watches him now.

Theres a blasé way about him in his handling of the situation at present, as if he’s been the responsible party of a similar predicament in the past. It wouldn’t surprise her if that were true, and although he's impossible to define, she’s certain he’s always playing with fire.

He IS fire.  
It holds so much significance for them.


	11. The ruins we hold.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selene finds clothes and ignites Dew's wrathful heart.

Dew is further away now, almost out of sight when Selene reconciles the length of time it may take for him to extinguish his not so unintended fire. 

She decides to take the opportunity to wander, although not too far. In the back of her mind, she knows its wrong, but even in light of her respect towards other's privacy and personal spaces, she can’t help herself from opening the door immediately to her right.

She anticipates whats on the other side as she turns the handle, pushing the heavy door to open, and it does easily enough. 

As she suspected more out of sensibility for the lay out of the wing and less from intuition, its a bedroom. Another inviting space, similar to Dew's except all the aesthetics here contrast in many ways to his. Its bright, somewhat modern, but no less opulent. Interestingly, amongst the many furniture objects and fixtures in the room, there is also a grand piano, which although out of place, seems appropriate. She loves it’s presence, considering the beauty of its sleek exterior as she walks over and skims her fingertips against the glossy white surface. 

The piano provokes her, recalling to mind the visual memory of those white guitars she had glimpsed in Dew's room earlier. Its not lost on her that the presence of two significant instruments in the only two rooms she’s encountered thus far could be unintentional, and she thinks to ask him about this at some point. If he's a musician, which seems quite obvious, she's already in love with the image. 

Selene finds that she’s seeking confirmations, wanting to ask Dew endless questions in the hopes that she may know him better, and her mind goes into overdrive at all they have yet to learn of each other, what experiences they might also share together. She considers all of this as she continues to tour the new space. Her fierce curiosity, his mystery, and her attraction to it and him compels her towards these discoveries.

She genuinely wants to know everything - the good, the dark, even the mythical for surely that exists. Anything to garner a better understanding of this new life and of him, she wants, because it’s clear to her that Dew isn’t born of this world, and even more so - he isn't human. 

But despite this fact, or maybe because of it, she seeks to know how she can better understand him. Almost instantaneously, its become important to her to know whats important to him, because she finds that she wants to be the one who can make him happy, give him what he needs and wants. And while she could rationalize it as the least she could do as a sign of thanks for taking care of her, Selene knows its more than that. 

It exasperates even her, how open she is to love, even still, and she thinks of how it might be alarming to know the capacity of her heart...how it now beats for him. But she won’t deny this to herself, or that she wants to be the one he’ll love, knowing that he’s honestly so deserving. The thought warms her as she envisions the ways she wants to show him this, all the things he's probably never had- things of love and compassion, respect and companionship. 

She’s still day-dreaming all the gorgeous notions she wants to share with Dew as she opens a connecting door within the room.

She gasps when she turns the light on and enters the segmented space that veers towards a bathing, dressing and vanity area. What really delights her is the wardrobe section, how its lined with shelves and racks full of clothing and shoes for every occasion. In fact, there are endless options, and she starts perusing the selection before her in admiration of the quality and style. But more importantly, she's grateful of the risk taken to wander here, considering how its inadvertently answered the overhanging question of where she was going to obtain clothing.

\-----------

“Ahh, so you’ve found Cirrus' room.”

She turns towards him with a start, although he hadn't intended to scare her. In fact, he’d actually been more quiet than he’d anticipated when he entered the room, and it was for no particular reason other than demonstrating his capabilities of being light on his feet- something many didn’t believe was possible.

In a way, Dew had trailed Selene, although the indications of her location were obvious given the open door. Nevertheless, he had been amused in an adoring way when he found her gawking at clothes- thinking it rather convenient, as it took out the effort of brainstorming a source. At least until they could get her some clothing of her own.

On this line, he assumed the seamstresses would be back when the rest of the clergy returned, but he wasn't certain of the time frame for that- only hoping that it wouldn’t be too soon.

All things considered, Cirrus’ wardrobe was definitely going to be the best option until that time, especially as he didn’t want to raid any of the sister’s rooms again. Besides, he wasn’t particularly keen on having Selene in a habit, not to mention the probability that she would have laughed at him and hated it.

Truthfully, the nun look isn’t really his thing either and he can’t fathom Selene wearing something so drab. He wants her to have the best, and she would, but for now - it had to be what Cirrus unwittingly had to offer.

\----------

His heart does that odd thing when she turns again to look at him over her shoulder in acknowledgement of his presence as he steps into the smaller room with her. He appreciates her gusto, the way she's picking items of fine quality and suitable to her frame. She's such a woman in this regard, and it shows - just how intuitive she is of her needs and appearance. She definitely shares that vanity with him, although he knows she's not fully aware of her pull, the physicality of her beauty and also the beauty that lies within her. 

She's so fucking rare, the brilliance of a thousand diamonds and Dew can't stop himself from touching her again.

He steps in close behind her then to place his hands on her shoulders. She responds with a subtle shift and leans back towards him, providing further encouragement of their increased physical contact, but Dew doesn’t need convincing. He’s already begun squeezing the tops of her shoulders, thrilling again at her shudder, and the way his fingertips just barely skim over her clavicle.

He knows of the effect that surrounds them in their closeness, and he knows she feels it too when he turns his face to whisper against her hair, so very close to her ear.

“You can have anything you want, Selene."

He lets the implication hang for a few seconds, but he seals his meaning with kiss as he moves her hair off the side of her neck to press his lips to her heated skin. It nearly kills him to limit his advancement to anything past this, but being the dare devil he is, he does it anyway.

As with most everything, Dew lives for a reaction - especially hers, but he's not ready when she turns her face to look at him, searching his eyes with clarity as he admires the surfacing scarlet blush of her cheeks. She holds him in that stare, and then without a second thought, leans in and kisses him.

Nothing dynamic, its slow and gentle although the words she says to him are absolute fire. They assure him in every way that they have the same desires, of which minimal clothing will be required. 

"I won't pick too many clothes."

\----------

Its actually a good thing that she’s a curious one and Dew thanks Satan for that as it dawns on him while he waits for Selene to finish collecting some garments, that the ghoulettes vanity play and bathing quarters are definitely more suitable for her.

Originally, he had planned to take her down to the grotto, although thinking on it now, it was definitely an idiotic idea considering it's function was more for leisure than cleansing.

Impressive nonetheless, the grotto is one of the few water sources that he can actually stand, and he fully intends to take her down there at some point. Alternatively for bathing purposes, he also could have let her use his personal rooms, as every ghoul has their own, but the reality is that his are currently quite the wreck.

Admittedly, he's not the most organized or level headed ghoul, even in domesticated settings, so this couldn’t be an option, at least until he remedied the situation. 

Thankfully, Selene is open to the idea when he suggests this, so after showing her how to work the fixtures, and providing her with some towels, he bolts back to his own room to clean. And because he’s fast, he gambles on a quick shower, thinking he probably smells like the earth from his earlier garden slumber.

Oh shit!

He experiences a brief moment of panic while reminiscing on his earlier outside exploits, immediately moving to check his pants, scanning the crotch and thigh area, relieved when he doesn’t actually find dry cum stains on them. But the close call solidifies his decision to shower, so he turns it on to heat up and begins stripping off his clothes and mask.

The scalding water is nice. It hits his skin, hot and soothing on his face and hair as soon as he steps in. He begins washing then, trying to divert the vision of Selene just a few rooms down, bathing glorious and nude.

And to think he almost made an ass of himself in front of her over spent remnants of himself on his jeans... All he can do is shake his head in amused self deprecation upon reflection of it now.

Dew, you fucking idiot.

—————

He’s just finished the knot of his tie, and he’s considering his appearance in the mirror when he hears Selene call his name. She’s still far off, but her voice carries in echoes.

Like his vision, his hearing is also advanced, so her beckoning comes in clearly to him, even from the distance. And as he doesn't want to keep her waiting, he gathers his hair up quickly, donning his mask to hide it in place before taking a final look at himself.

He's rather impressed.

He has other clothes too of course, but the ghoul uniform, as it were, is what he’s grown accustomed to and he admires it now- what it does for his overall look.

He feels strongly that the style and cut compliments him quite well, more so than some of his brother ghouls, although he never brags about it. Equally important is their level of comfort and dark monochrome coloring, which is high by his standards. He just knows he'll never get away from black clothing. Black anything, really- its just his favorite, aside from red, but even that affinity seems more ingrained than preferred, whereas black needs no explanation.

But the contemplation of appearance suddenly leaves Dew with slight uneasiness, as he considers Selene’s perspective, what she might think in terms of him wearing essentially the same clothes everyday. He hopes it doesn’t reflect a lack of individuality or creativeness, neither of which he actually has a shortage of. He wonders if it might come off as boring, well aware of how fashion is so often used as a form of self expression.

So what the fuck does that actually say about him?

He can’t be bothered to answer, there really is no explanation for it. And although he's quite confident that she's not the judging type, he finds himself growing irritated by the stipulations now, especially in regards to the mask. Its starting to make him feel ridiculous to remain disguised in this way, but especially for her.

While Dew knows he's not going to remove it any time soon, really unsure if he's even allowed yet, it still nags that he wants to do this. He knows he’s attractive as fuck, but it’s a very foreign ideal that he harbors in wanting her to see him, the actual h i m - face, hair and horns. Unfortunately, its just not entirely possible at current, and it pisses him off further to feel like he’s giving a false representation of himself.

In truth, that’s the furthest from his reality, because he’s nothing, if not authentic, but more importantly, he really wants to know that she would want him for h i m, everything that’s hidden, maybe even the aspects of him that he’s kept locked for many years now. He’s never felt that before, the pull to reveal so much to someone, but he knows its what she deserves, especially if they're ever going to be anything to each other.

And he's certain they will be, so she should know the darkness of him, his heart...so very black. His body. Everything.

\----------

Black.

It reminds him of the way Selene’s hair appears in low lighting. Now that he’s had some opportunities to be close to her, he knows that it isn’t quite raven, but its almost there and the color infiltrates his mind with that same shroud of dark desire as before. Really, every time he's thought about her since finding her...

Speaking of which, she’s still waiting.

He heads out of his room and into the empty hall then, finding it cast in shadows as far as he can see, save the light from Cirrus’ open doorway, which poses as a figurative beacon. It calls to Dew as he makes his way to the room in long strides, but his pace remains controlled, as he doesn't want to give the appearance of too much enthusiasm now that he’s recollected himself. He goes calmly to meet her, but his level of cool is completely out the door as soon as he walks into the room, heading for the wardrobe area.

Selene catches him off guard when she sneaks up behind him midway to the door, giving a playful shove as she pounces at him.

"Fucking hell!"

He's certain his heart temporarily stops, but he's quick to turn around to face her. He bores into her as he regathers his composure, working to contain an outburst. He struggles with this because although he knows her surprise attack was meant to be playful, it also speaks of her complete lack of regard to the possible dangers that could have resulted from this.

It worries him, and Dew actually thinks she has a lot of nerve to be smiling now. He feels overbearing, clothed in stern protection because he knows she's not aware a ghoul's violent nature, and certainly not his own. A lot of anger is constant, pooled just below his surface, and he feels it’s steady rise now. Its making him pissy again as his mood clouds with ridicule.

She's waiting for him to say something, watching as he mulls over his next move, and it interrupts his thoughts- just how damn gorgeous she is, how naive in this matter. But how can be cross with her when he cares so much? She's so important, but it angers him and he knows its irrational when he decides to put that anger on display in order to prove a point.

He’s well aware of the madness- how psychotic shes making him feel, but he accepts it fully.

\----------

She’s stunned when Dew forcefully backs her against the wall and begins ingraining some of these revelations into her with a fire tongue. He’s tense as he drops some ghoulish facts, implying the danger he himself poses to her.

Its clear to Selene that he’s coming from a place of protection, of concern in providing this warning. And in the face of his verbal scolding, she listens and she's humbled. His reaction says so much about him and what she must mean to him. Its more than enough to comply.

Its not his intention, but she feels a bit sheepish as she acknowledges her understanding of the dangers that Dew is alluding to. She should have known this, but she has no explanation for why she's taking this so well. She'd normally be slapping someone for speaking to her in this way, using force in this way.

But with Dew, everything is different.

He stares into her eyes forever, its exacting as he searches hers again for this comprehension, and she begins to feel the tightening grip on her arms. The bite of his nails on her flesh brings a new sting.

Selene apologizes then, and its sincere as it leaves her mouth in a breathless whisper.

\----------

Dew can see this in her eyes, just assuredly as its felt when the effects of her apology surrounds the air around them. He truly knows her intentions to be harmless, and really - he could kick himself now that he's calmed down, thinking how all of this must translate as an over-reaction.

Of course he's dramatic, the quintessential prankster and now he thinks he could have been easier on her. It leaves him temporarily disgusted in his hypocrisy, because this really isn't fair to her. Even still, it takes a few moments for him to control his fight instinct, so he remains quiet in the realization of how high the stakes are becoming where she’s concerned.

He drops his head because he can't look at her. 

She's too precious, too everything and Dew thinks to curse her for being so enchanting, so damn understanding to the situation. She's clearly more level-headed than he’s capable of and her maturity speaks volumes, it flows with compassion, everything she's still sending his way by her gaze, her touch. It's truly mesmerizing how she's taken just this tiny portion of his wrath and handled it with grace, even forgiveness.

It all leaves him feeling like a dick. And he's experiencing that obligatory pull, so new to him, when she touches his arms. He knows he needs to right these wrongs, and Dew intends to do this while simultaneously extinguishing the remnants of his tension.

Its important that she enjoys it too.

He releases his hold on her arms, but his hands don’t stray far, as his touch lowers to hold her hips. Its a place he hasn’t quite ventured to until now, and she seems welcoming to it as well. She feels...incredible.

He just knows it can’t be this easy- that she can’t be this perfect for him. And it isn’t easy.

They both know that nothing about their decision to fall together will be devoid of challenge, but they are perfect in the moment, perfect together. And Dew thinks she is absolutely perfect when she wraps her arms around his neck to bring him closer, encouraging the plundering of his mouth as she welcomes all his violent kisses.

\----------

If this is Dew's way of apologizing for his well-intended outburst, Selene thinks she should piss him off more.

Its just an entertaining thought that dissipates quickly, for she knows there has to be better ways to unearth this ardor. And it really is a new level for them as he kisses her in a combination that is both tender and punishing.

It the sweetest violence, so fitting a descriptor for him, and she’ll work to have him in this way often, but not through manipulation. He’s better than that, and Selene is too.

She wouldn’t dream of angering him intentionally to get what she wants. But for the moment, she is giving herself accolades of praise for her idiotic idea. Of course, it was only meant to tease him...and provide her with any reason to touch him again. And his reaction hadn't been what she expected at all, but the repercussion of her ill-fated plan had ascended them to this moment. She couldn't be entirely regretful or even hard on herself in this regard.

Its a strange thing though - her awareness of the fall, how she feels now with certainty that she’s playing with fire.

Selene wants so much, and she almost doesn’t recognize herself in allowing the liberties he’s seeking to take, but fuck! he can have anything. He feels so good as she wantonly moans delightful against his lips when he wraps his hand around the back of her thigh and gives a squeeze. Its effortless when he lifts her leg to encircle his hip, as he holds it there to afford him the space to move further into her. He invades the entire surface of her body with his own and its a beautiful fit.

\----------

She’s unsure of who's more breathless as the sound lingers along the continuous contact of his hardness as he presses against her heat.

Its delicious and he grinds into her again and again, feeling elated when she pulls him in closer with a guiding press of her hand on his ass to feel him more fully at her center. He's a vocal bitch, so turned on by her touch and the obvious look in her eyes that tells him everything. She wants this just as much as he does, all of it.

He really doesn't know why he resists from progressing, how they can do this to each other, especially with her so hot from his closeness. It just seems impossible, like it will never be enough as he begins to slow his movements.

Selene feels this too, aware that the moment is waning and that any second Dew will pull away again. It leaves her frustrated, knowing time is running out. She's annoyed by the limited access she has to his skin, how completely covered he is by his clothing. She'd been hoping to redirect her kisses in discovery of more appreciation, in places other than his lips that she knew would be pleasurable for him and the moment would have been opportune.

But they're so restricted. He's restricted and it makes her ache knowing that he deserves so much, many things. And she thinks she must adore him, certain of her feelings even as he slows their kiss to a low burn. Its absolute when he whispers ragged against her lips. “Goddammit, Selene. I’m sorry."

Its too much, everything, for her to hear these words and how directed they are in their weighted emotion. She catches his sweet apology with a returning kiss, wanting it to last as she reassures him in every way that she understands, and that they are fine. She knows his reaction comes from a very deep place of protection and she prolongs the connection by moving her hands to hold his face. 

Selene trusts him, so soon and so fully. She thinks this might be what love really is, because the feelings he evokes are so deep, startling in their brilliance of honesty and acceptance. She could be afraid, but she isn't as she looks into his blue eyes and they are soul-crushing. He's so beautiful, she almost can't fathom it. 

“Dew, I know you won’t hurt me.”

\----------

And it’s true, he thinks he'd rather die first than have that happen- be the cause of her sorrows or pain. The realization leaves him dizzy at the terrible prospect of hurting her, of how he never cared about the ramifications of his behavior until now, and where she was concerned. He wouldn't want her to feel loss or pain, anything bad, regardless of the cause and absolutely not by him.

Selene, he feels, is as valuable as she is profound, and if he wasn’t so busy falling in love with her, he might have paused in that startling revelation to fully consider what she had begun to mean to him on an emotional level too.

But all Dew really knows at the moment is that he’s losing control, lost in her as he presses hard against her mouth for one last kiss before pushing away. The motion compels her to untangle from him and she returns to both her feet again. She watches as he readjusts his clothes, deciding to intervene by stepping closer to him as she reaches up to straighten his tie.

She loves the intimacy of the moment and how her hands rest against his rising chest as her fingers play at the dark fabric. She tightens the knot a bit severely, intentionally so, and they both laugh at her quip. It assures him that they’re alright, as does her dreamy expression of slow fluttering lashes and the way her mouth is slightly upturned in a smile now.

“So, about that food...”

Fuck, she's the cutest and it leaves Dew smiling as he wraps her up in his arms without preamble. He just needs to hold her for another moment, adamantly hoping his apology is felt by the lingering of his touch and the kiss he places at her temple.

He knows he's pretty far gone when she eventually lifts her head to look at him again, delivering a well deserved call out on his shit - "Dew, you can be such a moody bitch."

He doesn't disagree. 


	12. Cupid de Locke.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kisses in the kitchen and the idea of forever, renewed.

Dew can’t believe she exists.

He’s watching as she admires the kitchen quarters barefoot and whimsical in her borrowed white shift. She has wondrous eyes as she walks around the huge expanse of space located in the lower level of the abbey, and Dew is inclined to believe she’ll be equally impressed, probably more so, by the rest of the grounds.

As they’re currently in a space thats typically thriving with continuous use, the presence of only them here now provides a contrasting reality for Dew as he considers the swarm of staff and clergy members; How they’re known to filter in here at all hours of the day.

Its not his favorite part of the estate, but he appreciates it in the stillness of the night as it affords him the opportunity to take in the details. The appliances are shiny and chrome, framed with black cabinetry and glistening marble white countertops. Its simplistic in description, but grand in vision.

Surprisingly it doesn't feel commercialized. Really, it could be decorated as thus in any home, just on a smaller scale and for a moment, Dew pretends it to be that - an extension of his would-be home with Selene. That in mind, he recognizes the sense of invitation that conspires with the room's functionality, forever equipped to meet feeding demands of the entire clergy…at least most of it’s members.

In that matter, Dew decides not to mention the dietary needs of a ghoul to Selene just yet. Of course he’s domesticated in the sense that he’s been able to acquire a combination palate of food sources... Still, he recalls being in this room maybe a handful of times since taking up permanent residence here, and even then, it was always on some dare to cause problems.

Like his choice of food, he consciously decides to omit that he’s actually under a ban from the quarters as a result of a recent incident. A ban which had taken effect soon after he had blown one of the burners, an unfortunate incident that left several members with minor burn injuries and severe damage to the stoves.

Copia had been mad, but Nihil was beyond livid and Dew himself became regretful in the aftermath.

The event had given him some perspective, or rather compelled him to finally take some responsibility for his actions in realizing the dangers of his casual thrill-seeking escapades. Interestingly, his response of remorse in the matter may well have been the first indication of his subtle shift in character. But it was an odd thing- how he seemed to temporarily give a shit about the consequences and then none at all.

In retrospect, Dew thinks it may have been the starting point to his altered perception of the world and where he fit into it. In the weeks since, he’d grown increasingly unfulfilled in every aspect of existence.

He'd mined his brain for days with blackened contemplation of his future in a state of personal Hell, and it had felt like a continuous free fall within an unending chasm for him. As it were, he'd been waiting for a signal, that tip of fate's scale to direct him as his outlook became more bleak with each passing day. And as that time went forward before eventually resetting to signify the new beginning, Dew had felt less himself than ever before- less willing to live, to even exist.

Utterly emotionless.

The memory of this remains stark for him, having only recently dissipated, but it contrasts immeasurably to where he mentally is now. As merely days before, he'd been lost on so many levels, alone in his thoughts to dwell on ideas of inadequacy and so very many dangerous contemplations.

It gives him pause now to reflect on the actual severity. Then he looks to Selene, watching as she moves through the space, opening cabinets and drawers with quiet curiosity, and he thinks she couldn’t possibly understand her importance- the concept that she inadvertently provided some semblance of personal renewal for him.

Its significant nonetheless, and he feels that he owes her a great deal.

—————

He makes his way over to her at a leisure pace, noticing the black and white checkered floor, which was never apparent to him before. Looking at it now, he realizes the similarity in pattern to the floor of the band’s stage set and it comforts him to think on that.

The realization brings back that familiar tick in his fingers- their subconscious reach to have a guitar in hand again. Dew quite honestly wants to get back there too, loving how natural it is for him to play. And that close connection with music has left him fleetingly hoping for more rituals to come, although the topic has yet to be broached.

Dew knows the future of Ghost in contingent on the wishes of his superiors and ultimately, the Unholy Father. But he can’t see it not being an option, and as such a fucking perfectionist in this regard, its starting to hit just how out of routine its been for him to not be performing, much less practicing.

He finds that his fingers ache in their need to be occupied, in a constant motion as he taps along the marble of the counters on his way to Selene. He’s not used to having his hands so free, so available and ready to hold something. And since his Fantomens remain upstairs and indefinitely untouched, he reaches for Selene instead, calling her back to him with a glide of his finger across her back.

And he has her attention immediately, seeing the delight in her eyes when she turns to face him. She looks as if she's been waiting for him to join her again- merely occupying herself in the interim until he'd decided thus. But doesn’t wait for her to respond with greeting, instead placing his hands at her waist to begin backing her towards the kitchen island.

The movement isn't forceful, and she backtracks willingly, letting him guide her until she feels her own body's soft impact against the countertop behind her. And its a fine entrapment that Dew has her in again as he completely invades her space, coming in to stand so close he can feel the subtle brush of her chest against his with every inhale she takes.

The closeness is intentional, and he thinks he'll always be self serving in this regard to feel her in any way he can. At current, he wants to ravage her, and its so hard not to, but any iota of a moral aside, Dew knows he's promised this sweet girl that she will be fed. He just really wishes it was with his dick at the moment, as he hones his gaze in on her lips, that luscious mouth...but he quickly shakes the idea.

Dew is loyal in this regard- of keeping his word when tasked to fulfill a duty or even from an idea he's determined to see through. If he says he'll do something, he's all in. Although now, he feels he'll consider a more level-headed approach in his decision making rather than acting solely on blind impulse. The rationalization behind this stems greatly from the presence of Selene in his life now. He’s quite aware of this, as he knows how his decisions, even behavior, can and will impact her life.

Its enough to make him reconsider so many things, although he doesn’t subscribe to cowardice. And while he's aware of his many character flaws, loyalty is one he's never fallen short of. Even if its not always obvious where his dedications lie, its apparent to those that are the closest to him - the ones that matter the most.

So like with all his endeavors before, he’s determined to see this small promise through as well. And oddly, the simplicity of her hunger- a basic human need for food has temporarily overridden his hungers of a different nature. He's finding that he quite likes the role of provider, assuming this is what being selfless could look like. 

Physical desires aside, he knows this is also the opportunity they need to really begin to know each other.

—————

He surmises the sun will rise soon, a proven fact to how fucked both their internal clocks are from the odd combination of sleep deprivation and wakeful indulgence. But looking at her now, Selene does seem wide awake, as if she could remain so for days - clearly revived from her bath and all the hours of sleep prior to it.

Its true how much a cleansing can work wonders on one's esteem and relaxation levels. Dew fully endorses the notion in his newly freshened and clean clothing, as well. In regards to appearance, he feels relatively top notch and in considering this, he also realizes he hasn't really taken his visual fill of Selene post-bath to appreciate her in revived glory.

She is beautiful, a fact that Dew will always acknowledge and be startled by.

He really wonders how any human could hold this much beauty, with the features of her being so exacting and rare. There is literally no comparison, and he's had years to discern this, known countless others - so many lovers. And yet- absolutely no one could compare. Dew is certain, as he revels the elegant lines of her face, the lovely bone structure she carries with pride, yet not an ounce of haughtiness.

Its all so perfecting, how everything is framed by her thick long hair - something even he finds himself in envy of. And he can't even begin to fathom the depths of her eyes, so dark and mesmerizing- how they allude to a wisdom far beyond her years as he stares into them now. 

In ways, she seems more mature than him, however, its not disarming for Dew to admit this. Contrarily, it moves him to elevate her close to deity status in his view, and although it seems absurd - its exactly what he thinks when he looks at her. 

He’s aware that he’s moved his hands to her hips again, and oh my Satan! the figure of her just kills him with her dips and curves. He wants to see everything and feel everything with the same intensity that he feels now from the heat of Selene's stare as she bores into him.

It’s a look of anticipation at what he will do, but she already knows, giving a small nod as she moves her hands back to brace herself on the countertop as Dew simultaneously lifts her up to sit on it.

Her legs open to accommodate his stance as soon as she’s properly seated, and she intentionally stays close to the edge to indulge in Dew’s nearness.

They’re both aware of the suggestion that their body placement exudes- how she’s opened herself to him again. 

He loves the trust she’s exhibiting, and he might have even considered her fearless had she known how ambitiously strong willed he tended to be with his desires. The respect and mutual attraction between them becomes deeply intoxicating.

It’s all so very tempting, it sets him fucking alight. 

The way she's now sat on the counter positions her above him, and to Dew - it makes her seem impossibly regal in her newfound dominance. Its a power position, and it makes him ache to be standing within the space of her opened thighs as he looks up to her.

And she’s the hottest when she goes to wrap her long limbs around him without invitation. But the contact still isn’t enough, so Dew encircles his arms around her.

He sensationalizes the shape of Selene as he pulls her closer to the edge and back to him with a firm press of his hands against her lower back and ass. Better- they're exactly where he wants them both.

His submission is calculated, providing her the opportunity to assume the lead now, and really- he's weak for it…which isn’t common knowledge. But with Selene, he’s intent to lose some of the control, certain he would do anything for her and not in turn, feel taken advantage of in the process of such a surrender. 

Thats important to him- he's no one's bitch and he won't be taken for a fool.

But since he's being honest with himself, he's also seeking more validation of her attraction. He garners how telling it will be in what she decides to do with the power she's been granted, hoping its all passion driven and aimed straight towards him. He craves it not only for his ego, but also as a means to justify the rapid acceleration of their relationship and the way its making him feel like such a fucking lovelorn sap.

—————

Dew can feel the heat radiating from her- how the hot sweetness between her legs thats pressed up against his abdomen transfers to him. She looks downright lustful, and it says so much about the effect he actually does have on her. And although its merely contact, one made even through a few layers of clothing, it alludes to the eventualities.

Their connecting touch is one of the sexiest encounters he's had for some time.

He waits for her, casually baiting with options as his hands begin to skim blissful against her hips. He can tell she’s becoming accustomed to the contact, allowing his touch to roam wherever, although his fingers are tame in their pursuit. He thinks of how warm he must seem to her, knowing how his body temps rise impossibly high when he's turned on, as he moves his touch over the tops of her naked thighs.

His fingers work slowly to creep the fabric of her dress up higher, revealing more gorgeous skin to his sight by the second as he lowers his gaze to watch his own advancements on her legs. And Selene is in no rush, enjoying all the sensations Dew is providing as she watches too- how his long fingers move languid across her skin to leave a path of fire in their wake.

Fuck! She can only imagine how capable his hands are, and her mind wonders then of their prior acquaintance to her body. She knows Dew has touched her previously, although to what extent she doesn’t know. But he had carried her, likely held her with great care as he'd brought her here, and to think how he tended to her during that time...

The idea of his gentleness consumes her, how this all must have been- a demon angel saving her in the aftermath of the apocalypse.

Her heart flutters, because she knows all of it to be true. She can see the goodness in Dew from a perspective uninfluenced by prior knowledge of him. Theres a mystery to his amiable qualities, the way they're belied by the presence of a cool exterior he chooses to exploit. 

But even still, she knows he's giving so much more of himself than what is truly in his nature. The vulnerability he's allowing takes her breath away, honestly and it makes her want to give him so much- anything he wants. And she thinks it surely must align with what she wants, which is to know him, to feel him...to love him. 

The thought alone makes her blush again, and she can feel the heat rising to her face just assuredly as Dew is picking up on all her obvious indicators again. She knows she’s flushed as his fingers continue to stoke that burn within her- a touch that pushes her to balance between the line of modesty and abandon.

Truthfully, its effortless for Selene to have Dew between her legs, entrapping him in this intimate way. It also helps to see that he’s clearly enjoying where he is too, and how natural this all feels for them both as his touch remains constant. 

Within the confines of his limited movement, he seems unbothered- as if completely disinterested in the prospect of a foreseeable disentanglement. And he’s so fucking hot as he carries his touch further up her dress with ease to feel more of her naked skin, although it remains veiled from his vision.

She feels empowered by all of this- how he clearly wants her when he starts providing light scratches on her as his hands get more grabby. That knowledge helps regain her confidence then, as she reaches out to lift Dew’s chin, forcing him to look at her again. 

She sees the challenge in his eyes, as if he’s daring her to really say what she wants. 

Without effort, Dew is that influential, and because he's so honest in what he wants, it enables her to advance their intimacy, if only by a small measure. Selene believes them worthy of an indulgent journey towards discovery, so her present reach isn’t overly demanding. 

They both know its torturous that they’re choosing not do more in this moment, but theres a great beauty in their reservation- a recognition of respect in the evolution of their connection. It will probably kill them both, but she can’t rush any of it with him, and she doesn't want to. 

Selene is finding that every moment with Dew is in some form or another, absolute magic.

She thinks that he understands - that they’re both equally aware of the many facets that comprise their newly created bond. How its not only physical attraction, which is certainly apparent and to be revered, but also that theres a greater force behind the abstraction of them, together.

In this way, the slow burn of their love seems predestined, but what they feel at present is no less vivid or bright.

—————  


By normal standards, Selene knows this is still fast. She’s more than aware that she’s been awake and with Dew for less than a day- also, that she's been and felt closer to him faster than anyone else before.

She's aware that if this had been anyone else, at any other time, she wouldn’t have been this open. This wanting...and she can’t explain it- the difference with him, other than the obvious aspects that separate him from anybody else from her past.

Its elusive, absolutely chemical the way her brain has reconfigured so many things for her, all the emotions that now align with her heart and how open its become.

Dew is absolutely exquisite, and she's in no way surprised by her attraction. And she’s perfectly aware of his restraint too - how he somehow manages to indulge them both, without pushing her too far. 

The thing is, she wants to be pushed, which is highly possible too, since it really doesn’t seem to be in Dew’s nature to be this patient. 

She appreciates the effort though, especially in considering the sense of entitlement that she's glimpsed a few times in him now. It makes sense - that he’d not be one to be denied, nor does he look like he’s ever been left wanting. And why would he?

Truly, he could have anything, anyone, so she's confident that he's exhibiting a more tame and patient demeanor because like her, he’s experiencing something altogether brand new. 

She really fucking hopes he sees her just as rare as she’s finding him to be.

—————

Selene temporarily suspends her train of thought as Dew draws her back to him with an inquiring tilt of his head. The silence has been too drawn out and she realizes how he’s been waiting quietly for her to make a move, do something.

She decides to give into her main need of the moment - his mouth, finding that she’s been dying to taste the subtle smokiness of his kiss again.

Its not unpleasant with its undertone of sweetness, something akin to candy in the aftertaste and she suspects Dew must actually have a sweet tooth. Its an odd mix of playful and sexy, and it works to appropriately sum him up as well, at least in her view.

She feels her heart trip at the start of reaching out to him because she's not usually an initiator. And its just a singular touch to his arm to begin, but she’s altogether encouraged by the responding squeeze his gorgeous hands give her thighs as indication to go on.

Ahh, now she’s beginning to experience firsthand some of the impatience and brattiness that Dew actually harbors. How she’s clearly been going too slow, taking more time than he'd anticipated when he initially surrendered his control. 

Its fine though, as she’s ready to proceed and the words come out breathless then, so complimentary to the heavy rise and fall of her chest.

“Put your arms around me.”

He obliges her, moving in close again to hold her as he wraps his arms loosely around her hips. Shortly thereafter, he begins a soft rub at the small of her back in an unconscious move to keep his touch constant. 

To Selene, its a soothing touch, but it also translates in a coaxing way. Its so sexy how his hand rubs slow against her, and she definitely hopes he’ll do this to encourage or control her pace if (when) she gets the chance to ride him…

Shit, she can't go there with that image! But its too late as the tell-tale flush begins to set in. She can feel it, stemmed from the direction of her thoughts again and also how close Dew’s face is, hovering just above her breasts now. And she actually thinks she's going to combust when he decides to lean in then, and rest his chin on her sternum.

She’s unsuspecting that Dew knows the full weight of his effect in this regard.

He looks up at her with innocent eyes, seemingly oblivious, but of course he's watching for her reaction. And she appears to be struggling with the closeness, how she can feel the warmth of his breath through the clothing she wears- the way it seeks to infiltrate every physical plane of her.

He's ready to give her everything, rather charmed by how nervous he's making her. And Selene knows what she wants, but she can’t vocalize it as that bout of shyness she’s so prone to begins to resurface. 

She finds it so fucking inconvenient, but luckily she’s understood.

—————

Dew knows and he doesn’t push her to verbalize her desire, relieving her without a word.

It feels like a dream as she watches him lower his face, this time to place a kiss at the middle of her chest.

He lingers there for a tender moment, hearing her blood course in tandem along the roadmap of veins within her. It fascinates him as he slowly begins kissing his way up the center again to capture the front tie of her shift between his teeth.

He’s skillful as he loosens it slowly at the neckline, and although the opening doesn’t run all the way down her torso, a gorgeous expanse of skin becomes exposed for Dew to kiss.

He wastes no time pressing his lips onto her bare skin, exploring at length all thats before him. He finds the sensation entrancing when his mouth skims above her heart, hovering there upon the life force of her, and how he can feel the beat just beneath his lips.

Then he opens his mouth.

The taste of her skin is hard to explain, theres a dewy sweetness on his tongue when he licks out against her. Picking up an undertone of spice now, he can’t recall it from earlier when he’d lavished love on her neck, but he enjoys it.

She smells divine, a heady mixture of her natural scent coupled with intoxicating pheromones and the combination of bath wash and fresh clothing. Its inviting, relaxing him further into her as he continues his lazy kisses across her naked skin, elated to have his mouth occupied again.

He can tell she’s loosened a bit, her evened breathing apparent now as she moves an arm to relax on his shoulder. Her potential as a minx resonates when he stays his lips in one place too long, to which she provides an unintentional squeeze to move him along in a silent demand for more.

And theres so much more he wishes to see, that he wants to kiss, but he’s not thinking of undressing her just yet. He resolves his imagination to wander freely of everything that hides underneath, assets he knows she will share with him in her own time.

To him, their progress so far has been promising.

—————

He has to admit, he’s surprisingly taken by the idea of the slow unveiling and how she’s not just giving it all away so immediately. Its a novel concept in consideration of their deepening connection, and a major contrast to what he's become accustomed to from past experiences.

But to be truthful, he hasn’t entirely been denied the beauty of her body upon reflection of the days he’d taken care of her, that moment at the lake when they had first arrived.

The vision of it all works to quell some of his stronger impulses at present. And with consideration to the sheerness of the dress she’s currently wearing, that of delicate white fabric, his vision is still not entirely hindered from her bodily delights.

In fact, neither of them are denying her body’s reaction to his nearness or the generous attention he’s been providing for the past several minutes. And Dew thinks she must be aching by indication of the hardness of her nipples, how they beckon for him.

Without thought, he lifts his hand, skimming along the curve of a breast before he begins rubbing his thumb against her hardened peak. He hears Selene’s sharp intake of breath, growing accustomed to the sound and loving that he’s stolen some of her breath with his pointed attentions.

Its exacting that this is what she craves, and he craves it too as his mouth waters to take them in his mouth. And he does, moving then to capture one pert tip between his teeth.

He stays his movements a few seconds, holding it captive before giving a thorough bite and tug on her nipple. It elicits the most drawn out moan from her, followed by an “oh fuckkkkkkk”, as he does it again and then to the other one.

Its exactly the reaction he’d been hoping for, reveling over her weakness for this- how its matched in intensity of how much he enjoys doing it.

—————

Even with the added barrier of her clothing, its still so fucking hot as he continues to provide electric shocks that shoot right to Selene’s center. She can basically feel herself throbbing, loving every tug Dew takes on her as he sucks and bites.

She gets lost in all the delicious sensations as she braces herself with a steadying hand behind her, leaning back to allow him more access. The move is needy as fuck, but she doesn’t care as her eyes drift shut and her head tilts back to enjoy everything he’s giving.

Dew is attentive as hell, bringing his hands forward to caress over her torso and hips, grabbing handfuls of her. He can’t get enough as he moves his touch up to cup and squeeze her tits, loving the weight of them, how perfectly they fill his hands.

He occasionally diverts his attention to kiss and lick at her collarbones, the base of her throat, and all the naked skin of her chest that is primarily “safe”. But always, he returns to the more pleasurable task of sucking her tits.

He’s kind of dead over the way she’s allowed this- herself in a silent offering, and he’s certain that at this point, she wouldn’t be opposed to him ripping her dress open and fucking her fast and hard. Her soft moans tells him as much, as does the subtle lift of her hips towards him and the arm she has laid against his shoulder for guidance, if needed. 

But she doesn’t, because Dew seems to know her needs better than she does. It resolves her to return her hand to the back of his nape in a gentle hold to keep him close instead. It’s fast becoming a signature move for her, he’s noticed and he doesn't mind.

He senses that she's so ready for him and he feels the same. So much so that he almost can’t fucking wait to be surrounded by her, and feeling all the things. But even still, there’s great enjoyment in where they are currently, how her body is so accepting of his touch, even in this small way. And Dew is finding that he really appreciates the delicacy of their foreplay, its appeal in ways he hadn’t considered before now.

Despite his pent up need, which lately has been bordering near extreme danger where his anatomy is concerned, its sustaining him to at least know he’s the common factor in Selene’s lust, her pleasure, security…happiness?

He’s aware of how different it is with her, although it can’t fully be defined exactly why or what makes this so, other than timing and circumstance. 

Its elusive, although he recognizes it intuitively and he wants it to last. He understands the investment in this approach, how its what she deserves and perhaps he does, as well.

————

Selene eventually comes back to him, interrupting his ministrations with a soft push against his shoulders as she uprights herself.

“Dew, give me your mouth.”

The demand from her is sweet, but urgent and it does him in. It just does so fucking much for him to be wanted in this way.

Like he didn’t realize he needed this ever, and definitely not until her, but it means a great deal that her desire for him is multi-faceted, that she clearly wants him for more than just the pleasures of the body. 

Not that kissing isn’t pleasurable to Dew, it can be. But it's also voluntary, and usually with pointed emotion intended to connect with someone in a way that he never felt obligated to. 

He seems to understand this better now, finding first hand how nice it can feel to be wanted for more than sex and the vanity of attention. But these things, he wants to give to Selene as well. 

His mind is entertained with notions, infinite ones of reciprocated affection and he gives into her willingly then, lifting his face to receive anything she wishes to bestow upon him. 

He isn’t disappointed at the start of that first soft press of her lips back against his. She thanks him with so many kisses, providing a violent tenderness as their lips collide again and again.

Selene holds his face, tilting to adjust the angle so she can kiss him long and deep. Its spellbinding and it builds when she delves her tongue into his mouth to taste and caress against his own. 

All her intentions work to instill the same idea of a promise, something he’d been dreaming about for days now - that they belong together.

It might be too soon for them to openly admit, but it also isn’t soon enough. Everything feels right, and it affords them the certainty of their destiny as it gradually becomes ingrained in their hearts. 

It surrenders them to another shared moment of enchantment, one in which nothing and no one else exists. And they kiss forever, with Selene holding Dew in a loving embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got soft writing this, hope y’all enjoyed ♥️😌


	13. Ghost.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _We are torn between nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and the strange._ \- Carson McCullers

Selene is lulled by Dew’s soft purrs as the intensity of their kiss transitions to slow brushes of lips against each other. She eventually opens her eyes to look at him in their close proximity, seeing that his are still shut as he continues to kiss her softly.

She becomes enamored by the situation, how he’s so relaxed in the moment of this non-demanding kiss and how sweet its become. She loves that he’s loosened this much, enough to eliminate his visual reception.

It means so much that he feels this with her, and his purrs are so telling, as is the way he doesn’t attempt to hide this natural reaction within him.

She finds that she really loves this tendency of his, how it seems to arise from a great sense of comfort and contentment. Its unlike anything she's ever witnessed, which is equally important, as it draws back the reality that he is unparalleled, inhuman.

But there are so many features of his physicality that allude to that of a man, though he is not. He’s so much more, and its startling to think that he should be the one she was meant to be with, but its so true. She needs it to be true, thinking this as she continues to accept his kisses.

She's soon distracted by his long lashes, how imperceptible they are at first glance laid against his dark skin. The beauty of them interrupts her thoughts, her movements after awhile as she forgets to move with his mouth.

It triggers Dew to open his eyes then, sensing the moment could be over. But he’s not alarmed as he pulls back to see her more fully.

She looks dreamy, so content and he’s certain she sees the same in him, knowing his fucking purrs would have given this away, regardless of his consent. It doesn’t matter. He knows he’s done good, admiring the blush that’s resurfaced to color her cheeks- a reward within itself, although damn - he’s only just skimmed the surface with her.

He could devour her, and he moves in again for closeness because its the best he can do for now. “What are you hungry for?", he asks quietly against her lips.

He’s fucking entranced by her eyes, the way they seem to have darkened with her desire as they pierce his would-be soul. Her smile forms then, keeping him in wait as she hesitates a few seconds, as if she’s really considering her response.

And Dew is confident in his ability to accommodate any choice of food she might have interest in - knowing the assortment is endless here. Really, nothing she required would have been out of the question for him, except removing his mask - obviously. Anyways, he’s fine to wait a bit longer, enjoying the feel of her palms rubbing against his chest as her fingers begin to play at the suspender straps.

She needs another distraction, this time away from his searching eyes when she eventually moves to wrap her arms around his neck again, tighter this time. For Selene, its quite challenging to vocalize the things she truly wants, although she's determined to have courage for Dew. She knows he needs to know, needs to hear these things.

And somehow, he instills the confidence she's seeking, as if by extension of himself as he begins a leisure caress on her back. She says what she feels, and its a simple statement - one that encompasses many things.

“Everything. Dew, I want so much.”

Its heavy, blatant with need and she occupies them both to extinguish the statement by giving him a quick peck and it’s so fast, he barely catches it. Luckily, she stays close, so close that he can smell the mint of her breath, just about taste it from the air as he mulls over where they actually stand in this matter.

Its all there as he notes the lower octave of her voice, quickly learning that this is most apparent when she’s fueled with passion, a burning desire. Its so sincere, everything she’s implying. He remains quiet and they let it hang in the air between them, as Dew’s internal temps level out and he considers his next move.

\----------

He truly feels his reservation is something to be admired when he reaches up and unlocks Selene’s arms from around him, finally stepping out of her embrace. He can’t begin to consider how long he's been there, held by her. He thinks its pointless to attempt to decipher with the way time now seems to stop whenever they become close in the way they are now.

His body misses the comfort of her touch, all the intricacies of physical attention as soon as he’s out of reach. He anticipated as much, thinking she might also be struggling to stay where she’s sat on the counter, but she does. The magnetic pull is very strong, but he persists with the distance in spite of it.

Selene watches longingly as Dew disappears around a corner at the end of the room. He returns several times back to her with armfuls of food, and she's overridden with laughter, a mock exasperation that he knows all too well. The atmosphere shifts, and its lighthearted, everything she needs in this moment, she realizes.

“What? You said you wanted everything!” He's not even trying here, he's just being himself and its effective. And Selene is consoled by the familiarity of Dew's playfulness, how it encompasses her with deep impact. He's a little shit, surmise to say and he's laughing as he continues to bring more selections for her. Its infectious.

He knows he's clever, finding her rolling eyes and continuous giggles rewarding, as she begins snacking. Eventually, he’s satisfied with the gathering and feeling they have more than enough to indulge in, he hops onto the counter to join her.

He's aware that this is all presenting as sarcastic in consideration of the ridiculous amounts of food before them. The behavior is so very like him, but he also thinks it must convey his generosity - that he could always provide for her... His approach is very different, he's aware and its probably subtle but he thinks she knows despite the ambiguity.

“Dew, you’re terrible. I can’t stand you.”

Its a satisfying response, to hear this as he watches her face light up once again. The meaning behind her words is sound, how he's chosen to interpret it. Yes - she absolutely fucking adores him. Then he's grabbing food to snack with her, impossibly hungry all of a sudden.

———

They talk for hours on a variety of subjects, as one would in connection with someone exceptional - someone they'd intuitively felt was always meant to be there.

And thats what Dew feels towards her, confident in his assumption that she was meant for great things, even in her former life. Each hour that passes makes him more assured, because he knows not just anyone could have accepted this, survived and been actively choosing to move forward.

He's not entirely sure he'd have been as understanding if he had been in her position, recalling how angry he'd been when he was initially summoned. Actually, he knows he wouldn't have been this calm, finding further contemplation on the subject useless as he begins to eat.

They're the picture of youthful rebellion sat on the kitchen countertop, casually lounged across from each other now. Its relaxing, and he continues to reach for more of the sweet varieties as he listens to Selene talk about her life as one hour fades into the next.

He's all ears and he doesn’t press her, but he’s curious about everything - especially what makes her happy, aside from obvious things like baths and clean clothes and food and being held, kissed. In addition to that, he's invested in her interests; Finding that they range in subject, which might have been suspected of a woman as passionate as her.

And Dew really isn't surprised by that either.

It’s clear she has an affinity for the arts, every form and that pleases him immensely because he relates hard to it. Actually, he thinks she might have killed him if she had known of the painting he'd destroyed earlier… It really was kind of a shame.

She seems classically inclined, and it isn't a reach considering all the intricacies she exhibits- that of someone from a different time, undoubtedly surpassed from the standards of the modern age she had so recently inhabited. Theres incredible advancement in the words she chooses, as well as the expressions that come more naturally now for her to convey the things she’s feeling.

She's on another level, elite, worthy - Dew feels this in his bones and he becomes fixated with the idea, thinking it has to be true. She's the living dream of poets and painters, and apparently demons. His very own modern day Renaissance.

All he can do is stare, and he notes how full her lips are now. Impossibly so from being thoroughly kissed and he notices the fading marks around her mouth- undoubtedly left by his mask with all their hard presses against each other. It's really becoming an annoyance for him to not be feeling every part of her, beginning with the basic mechanics of a genuinely bare kiss.

She's so unbothered by it and it moves him when he considers this form of acceptance from her. She is...everything.

Its spellbinding for Dew to know she is all these things, a beautiful creature of vast qualities with an endless heart. Its honestly more than he can comprehend and it continues to hit him, because he's unaccustomed to it. She's so honest, genuine in her purity and kind by nature. This is signified through the emphatic tendencies he's witnessed from her in such a short amount of time.

Coincidently, she has the capability to lead, doing so with feisty gusto. He can tell she's also strong, although non-aggressive in her pursuits. Its a heady combination that she can be secure in certain aspects of her life, steadfast and driven, especially in her care for others. And yet, she's clearly less certain of her self-confidence and the execution of self-fulfilling activities.

It perplexes him how she can be this unaware of her own draw and beauty, but resolute to acknowledge it in others.

The incredulity of this notion brings their differences to light, because he's so fucking full of himself. But its complimentary and he finds it welcoming - how she can be sweet, almost innocent, yet also project a power that rivals his heart and makes him question everything.

The contradictions of her complexity make her even more beautiful.

————

Dew wants to know so much, everything, but he thinks it might never be the right time, or any time soon to ask about the deeper things like who she loved, and how they were connected.

All manner of relationships and the memories of the old world, from her youth to present would captivate him - to know the moments that defined her and how they would undoubtedly be more personal than ever for her now.

He can’t believe he cares, but he does, and its enough for him to recognize that he can’t ask this of her. He knows he doesn’t have a right to these details, but he'll continue to hope they'll be shared in time. For now - he just doesn’t want her to feel alone, because she isn’t.

In fact, he doesn't think she fully realizes her position now, or the potential of her future in terms of prosperity and protection, of freedom in every sense. He gives indication of this, and also the wisdom that humanity isn’t gone.

Its important for her to know this- that her life won't be a nightmare and he poses it as such with an undercurrent of hope. He alludes to the possibility that who she knew and loved from before could also still be out there, alive.

But she seems to be of the mind that hope in this regard is too painful a notion to entertain. She explains her stance to Dew of how counterproductive it might be to think this way. The potential effects of pining for something that may never happen poses too many emotional dangers and she admits she's not ready to consider this possibility.

Its a fair stance, and to be truthful, he’s felt this way before as well, but her controlled response deflates him nonetheless. And he's not used to being on the other side of pessimism, so it hits unexpectedly.

“I can’t chase ghosts, Dew.” She doesn’t sound defeated, she sounds factual, giving indication that the topic is now closed.

But he can't turn his brain off. He respects her stance on the matter, but he also knows he can’t be the replacement for those she's lost, and he absolutely doesn’t want to be a substitution- seen as her only viable option, just as long as she isn't alone.

He doubts thats her aim - knowing its impossible that she would consider him less when he reflects on how they are together, their chemistry. How everything about them together just feels fucking right, even despite all the chaos that brought them here.

Still - the thought begins nags. Surely she doesn’t see him this way, that she's settled for him from lack of a better option. He despises this insecurity, although it stems from an actual form of love for her. 

It must be true. Otherwise, he wouldn't have cared.

————

The time isn't known as they continue their discussions, the everything of the everything.

Dew thinks its appropriate to provide her context of their current state, eventualities of what may come and how they both factor into the world now. There is still so much at work for this year, this new age - details that even he hasn’t been fully privy to, but it makes sense that she might feel that she will be alone, or that they two will stand alone in the uncertainty of future events.

They won’t, although he could want that - to have a life separate from all this.

He doesn’t want to leave, but it would also be nice to be given the choice in light of their accomplishments. He can’t fully explain what all this means to Selene, other than he still has duties and is bound to something bigger than himself. Its how the conversation transitions to the estate, which is the subject that overhangs the most at present.

It leads to the others who call this place "home" - his family. She listens to all this intently, with deepening interest as he begins to explain the Emeritus line and the clergy’s direct connection to Satan. None of it alarms her, which again is and isn’t surprising, but it leads him to entertain the thought that maybe she wasn't religious, at the least - devout, as Dew not once sees her offended by the blasphemy he begins to speak of.

The conversation then effectively leads to Ghost and he skims over the eras. Of course he livens over the ones he’s connected to- where he’s been invested and revered.

He talks of Cardinal like an unintended father, someone who stays in a state of loving exasperation. This seems to be most apparent where Dew is concerned, but Selene thinks his brothers and sisters lend a hand here as well. At least, the majority of them.

She absolutely wants to meet them all, loving how Dew speaks of them fondly as he shares small facts. She receives a better understanding of their individuality just by things he tells her - details of their interests and shared experiences with him, how they're all connected through their complimentary and clashing personalities.

Its apparent that they are more than a collective group of ghouls and ghoulettes with musical inclination. Of course, she had caught on fairly quick that there was music involved too, and its exciting to imagine- but this is more. They're a family, and she feels that to be universal in her comprehension of how they operate just as humans would.

It comforts her to know there is love present in that way. In fact, she actually thinks its plausible that their familial bond might be stronger, something forged by mythical powers as it were. It plays on the idea of infinity in light of their seeming immortality, as does her impression that time doesn’t seem to be an issue for him.

————

Selene knows Dew is ancient, although he acts twenty-five. Its one of the most prominent qualities of his that she’s been been drawn to and it lends itself to her stealth belief of opposites attracting. She’s always been this way, always wanted to be with and know others unlike herself. Historically, she'd gravitated to those who complimented her own personality through counteraction, feeling most alive with those who challenged and inspired her.

Dew is no exception to this. In fact, he’s probably the pinnacle of this ideal.

She considers him - so casual, so cool and assured and its completely suitable. Its becoming clear that he’s the bad boy of the group, just bad in general and it makes her heart race. She's definitely also swooning over his effectual talent as a musician, lead guitarist no less, when he tells her this boastfully - as he should.

She recognizes the pride in him - such Alpha material, which is apparently something fire ghouls are prone to. And she can imagine the energy levels of Dew at the height of his potential - how explosive he must be in the confidence of his abilities to play, to entertain and captivate. It all ties to his charisma, and he has no shortage of supply in that area.

She’s sure that he is in every sense of the word, an absolute demon when he's on stage, when he's with others... and in intimate moments too.

He demands attention without even trying and honestly, who wouldn’t be drawn to him?

Theres so much about the direction of her thoughts, how all the information and realizations continue to enlighten to her in regards to him. She knows she's accurate in her intuition, that he is literal fire in every way imaginable. And although her mind battles it, she does believe when he confirms her suspicion that he is in fact, from Hell.

\----------

Despite his current air of coolness, an effect from his state of relaxation, he remains HOT. Hell personified.

Literally, he's always so warm when she touches him and it makes her want to reach out again, as a small chill takes her. But its not bothersome in consideration of the heat he's giving her with just a look. Fuck - he's beautiful and intense. She considers how others must view him, and she'd love the insight- to know who he was before all of this happened too and before her in his life.

And while his reputation is undoubtedly known, how she's been able to fit the pieces together herself, she’s more personally aware of the lesser known facets of him. She's experienced first hand these sweet parts, ones he likely doesn't keep on indefinite display. And that consideration makes all these moments so rare- like, to ever think Dew would be having a picnic in the kitchen...

But he is and he seems to be enjoying it just as much as her.

Surely his family sees it, just as she does and she hopes to eventually hear about him from their perspectives - what they think and might say of him. Although, she’d be ready to defend him if anything less than complimentary should be said. And its not because she's oblivious to his faults, both of theirs.

She'd do this because she cared, and out of loyalty, devotion. She knows Dew would do the same.

This undisclosed vow is important because a part of Selene feels that he might not always get the credit he deserves. She imagines how quickly overshadowed the subtleties of his kindness likely are as they compete with his loud personality- that firestorm of chaos he forever seems to stir.

But he has so much more depth than what can be assumed solely from an exterior approach, as well as from the opinions of others, even the lore tied to him. And she chooses not to be entirely swayed by this.

It wouldn’t be fair to assume he doesn’t have the potential or capacity to be on an entirely new level than what he most often presents. Really, she knows that Dew feels very deeply, he’s emotional and moody too.

But he’s also so damn soft, attentive with exhibiting care. She honestly needs more of it, and she can’t wait to see the interactions that will further exemplify his many layers when the clergy returns. And Dew assures her they will.

Its just a matter of time now, but its impossible to gauge…

They’re both secretly hoping it takes forever, so they can continue on in their unintended gothic fairytale, perhaps even until the end of existence. It won’t happen- the granting of this unspoken wish, but it reminds them both of how valuable their time actually is.

It hits again, acknowledgement of the subtle shift of their world and how they have collided in the most mysterious, incomprehensible and brilliant of ways. And it will never make sense, but it comforts them both to have each other in the now - seeing how quick and effortlessly they've chipped away at the base of acquaintance.

They’re already in very deep, having been left to their own devices to navigate through this unfamiliar time, in this perfect setting. Its apparent how they've been equally forced and not forced to feel everything they do, knowing its paving the way for whats to come.


	14. It tastes better from your lips.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The burden of anonymity and Dew's emotions behind the mask + Copia’s illegally imported goods.

The silence surrounds them again, but its one of comfort and contemplation.

Dew’s still sitting sprawled across the counter, now facing the opposite wall that Selene faces and it’s really giving her the chance to admire those gorgeous legs of his. They seem endless, although she knows they’re roughly the same height so it can't be true. The illusion is grand.

His clothes really do so much for him too, outlining his slender form so beautifully. She knows she’s staring, just as aware of this as he is and he chooses to remain silent, allowing her to take her fill.

Her attention of his limbs indirectly feeds his ego, although its interrupted by the occasional swing of his tail behind him as it catches her eye. And it brings back so many facts about their situation.

Demon angel rescues dying damsel.

She scoots closer to him then, admiring his fingers from where his hand currently rests on his thigh. Its big, very masculine, striking and curiously, almost disproportionate to the rest of him. They're perfect though, just the same as she thinks the rest of him is - thin, but shaped beautifully with sinew and sweeping lines.

She reaches out to trace the protruding veins that map the surface, enamored. Just gorgeous, and to think of the blood flowing through them - how it circulates and moves within him for life.

He really exists, he's real.

He’s also rolled up his sleeves, revealing yet another layer of clothing and it impedes her advancement as the vein disappears under the additional sleeve. She finds that she's vaguely disappointed, knowing the rest of him is no doubt a thing of beauty, and its dawning on her again how very little of him is physically exposed.

She’d love to see him, especially his true face. Ever the mystery, although theres still so many expressions he manages to display despite the mask. She imagines he really is breathtaking under there.

Its all indicative already by the line of his chin and jaw…those lips, his eyes! It makes sense that he would be stunning, just as he is otherworldly and unlike anything she’s ever beheld.

And she wants to, attempting to understand the reasons for his continued anonymity. She knows its because of Ghost, surely a necessity in the pre-apocalyptic world. But that wasn’t valid now, so she suspected there to be more depth to it, whether because of the band or for personal reasons.

Even still, she’s dreaming of the moment she might feast her eyes on his beautiful form, devoid of all clothing. Ideally, she’d like to slowly acquaint her lips to every dark surface of him, take her time in the exploration...make him weak with want.

She really wants him, squeezing his fingers when she looks up to him.

“Can I kiss you again?”

He looks at her a bit incredulously, but its more teasing than anything. She really doesn’t have to ask, but its adorable that she does. It heats his blood to know that she wants to kiss again.

He’d been thinking the same, about how long it had been since they last did. Too long. Still, he has to tease her.

“Are we asking for permission now?”

“Shut up, Dew.”

She rolls her eyes in response as she leans in, but she’s smiling when her lips touch his. And he finds himself sighing into her mouth as he surrenders to her kiss, all that she gives.

They go slow, but its not tame. Its deep, soulful and he feels her move her hand onto his thigh, bracing herself as she gets consumed. Its all a means to be close, and he ensures the closeness when he reaches up to cup the back of her head.

He holds her to him with fingers tangling into her luxurious hair, not wanting it to end.

—————

Coming down from their high again, Selene stays close, in continuous contact with his mask as she lingers her lips near his jaw. She’s unthinking when she kisses it and then his cheek, and they both separately wonder how relevant the stipulations of the disguise are.

He’s honestly rather used to it, especially his clothes. He can wear other ones too and sometimes he does, but he prefers this. Its just his thing.

However, the mask is more complicated, as it isn't only for the sake of anonymity...although, mostly. Regardless, Dew rarely goes unmasked.

He’s guarded in this way, knowing that the exposure places him in a vulnerable position. And even if it wasn’t in his nature as a ghoul to feel deeply about this, he thinks he'd still be slow to open up on that level.

Sure, he can be open…to an extent, but its greatly untapped. He’d never felt compelled to reveal himself fully anyway- never had justification or care, although now he thinks it might be different.

Selene seemed to be doing an effectual job of easing him out of his usual comforts without trying much.

At present, he was feeling pretty deprived of her touch, of all the genuineness he felt in her desire to see him and really feel him, although she couldn’t. At least, not fully.

It moved him in an inexplainable way and made parts of him want to remove everything...

His personal feelings aside, he actually hadn’t been granted the freedom to assume his full identity, which would be to go unmasked outside the presence of his superiors and siblings.

Its a hard thing to explain, which is why he’d avoided her initial inquiry on the matter earlier. A deeper part of him feels shame in his lack of exacting control over his own life, and the mask is the most obvious indication of this, a constant reminder of his limitations.

He knows its a trigger, a huge part of why he acts out in the way he does. 

He’s unsure how believable it would be to share the mechanics of his situation, how he works within an operating system of hierarchical power. He doubts she would understand this aspect of his life, how the majority of it is actually contractual. 

Truth was - he really couldn’t show himself to Selene even if he had wanted, at least not without risking their future, for he’d surely be ousted for breaking the rules. They would know, somehow they would know and he'd have to answer for it.

Of course he broke rules all the time, but this was one that held deep consequences, and it wasn’t something he was willing to risk, especially when his life was just starting to look up again.

Even still, he found himself despising his current position when he gave it too much thought, as he was doing now. And he hated that he’d been inadvertently distracting himself from the pleasure of Selene wanting him, of her kisses that he felt upon his face even now, although not directly.

—————

She eventually breaks away, sensing his mind is elsewhere and it brings them back to the hour. Its probably mid morning already, but the kitchen gives no indication of daylight as its windowless.

Dew is mostly relaxed as he drops the subject of his musings, providing her with a small smile to dissipate any forming worry she might have had over his temporary silence.

He watches her move back to her side of the counter, finding that he’s incredibly satiated by the surprising amount of food he’s consumed- more than he’d typically ever eat. But somehow it had all tasted better shared with her, especially those few morsels that she’d fed him directly.

He can’t even recall what it was, just that it had been delicious taken from her fingertips. She’d complied willingly to his demand to do this, which was really just him being bratty in a convenient excuse to lick her.

He's aware that his oral fixation is more prominent at certain times over others, but its a defining quality, for whatever reason. Dew thinks most everyone knows that by now, even Selene. And truthfully, its not something that can always be controlled, as his need to be touching and tasting with tongue becomes overwhelmingly second nature.

He feels that pull now, a need for taste, something layered. And an idea occurs just as he remembers the stash of chocolate he’s been hoarding, something saved for last.

—————

Dew reaches for the black lacquered box he’d conveniently placed away from all the other food, securely out of Selene's reach.

“I was wondering if you were going to share that.” She’s teasing and its cute, especially since she doesn’t even know what it is, only that she wants some.

He hands the box to her, more excited than he actually wishes to convey when he tells her to open it. And he watches her as she does, pulling the lid off slowly to reveal a gorgeous assortment of chocolates.

The thing is -

“These are the Cardinal’s. Secretly imported from Vatican City, at least they were… Its destroyed now, so these are the very last.”

Its so impressive to him, how impossibly rare these are and likely delicious. Dew hasn’t ever had one, but he’s well aware of Copia’s secret stash and the risk he'd always taken to obtain them. He thinks she will be pleased.

But actually she’s alarmed when he provides that insight and she immediately replaces the lid, clutching the box close to her with protection.

“Dew! We can’t eat these, put them back!”

It floors her to think about the Vatican, and it hits hard in a rush of realization again of how the world is now. And she knows Copia is a big deal, that these are precious indulgences and she definitely doesn’t want to fuck with that. She can’t imagine starting off on his bad list, before she's even met him.

But Dew is bad, the worst influence and he entrances her when he holds her captive in his blue-eyed stare. They're so bright now, icy and gorgeous. Goddamn, they kill her!

She’s non-resistant when he reaches out to brush her hands off the lid of the box so he can reopen it for her. He leans in, so close that she thinks he’s going to kiss her again. But he doesn’t, stopping when his lips are merely an inch from her own as he whispers to her.

“Take one.”

He makes it so easy, effortless in his encouragement of her to indulge, and she considers the sweets before her. Delicate, rich.

Its pleasurable for him to witness this, knowing its a form of sin for her to do so against her better judgement. He’s pleased to know he can have that influence, but its more rewarding to see her coming into her own, sensing this is something she wants to do.

“This is so bad.”

She proceeds to pick one, looking at it wistfully just before she consumes it. And when she does, he knows it was worth it, that she’s thinking this too by the expression she carries.

Everything is better this way, with temptation.

Dew comes close again, knowing the chocolate is just beginning to melt on her tongue now. He can almost feel it turning molten in her mouth and without hesitation or thought, he asks for a taste.

She reads it wrong, and he half suspected she would, watching as she reaches in the box for another piece to give to him. He notices that she picks the most embellished one for him. A genuine kindness.

He looks at the proffered chocolate between her fingers, then back to her face. Its crazy how she continues to amaze him, and its enough to make him grin as he shakes his head to decline. But he takes the piece from her anyway with intention to feed it back to her, and he does.

Its sexier than he anticipated when he reaches out to put it in her mouth, and how she maintains eye contact throughout. She capitalizes on a chanced lick against his fingertips at the last second and it ignites him.

He’s feeling rather breathless over her, although his lust is anything but fleeting. Its also possible the room could be spinning. Still, he presses on to trace a finger against her lips, dragging his touch down the center of her mouth, willing them to part. He can't make this any clearer.

“I want to taste from here.”

—————

Her blood is boiling at his words, how fucking hot he is, smooth. And her mouth opens of its own accord, so eager in its welcome of him invading it again.

Dew approaches slowly for the sake of anticipation, giving a small nip at her bottom lip in his temporary fixation over its plumpness. Then he’s kissing her, tasking himself to fully taste her as he urges her to open more with added pressure.

Its combination bliss when his tongue meets hers, still coated in the velvet richness of melted chocolate, the finest of the world. Its hot how she’s offering this, and he can’t recall anything more delicious in his life.

He wants it to last, wants it to kill her and it basically does when he begins flicking his tongue fast and continuous against her own in a suggestive way. He moves ardently, licking against her long after the chocolate is gone, and she just keeps giving back, battling for dominance with her own tongue.

It astounds him, although he knew she had this in her - such passion. She’s fucking amazing and he fully intends to continue this between her thighs, eventually...

He thinks her thoughts have surely wandered there too. He's confident of this when he sucks a bit too long on the tip of her tongue, how it elicits her satisfied moan into his mouth.

The thought beckons his hand to her legs, as his palm begins to skim over her thigh again, moving further to lift her dress and expose more of her creamy skin.

Its so tempting, but he stops his own advancement with a fine squeeze at her inner thigh. He knows its a bit too rough in his self inflicted frustration, but she doesn’t care, remaining close so he can stay generous with his kiss.

In time, he moves to occupy his mouth with small licks at her lips and the occasional lingering kiss on her skin, everything in close vicinity of her lovely mouth.

Dew really loves how fucking needy she displays, so clearly lost in her pleasure of him when he eventually moves his lips from her, altogether. And damn, she really could be a greedy bitch when she wanted to be.

He’d previously thought himself unrivaled in this regard, but now he wasn't so sure.

He gives her room to breathe, living for the gorgeous color of her again, and how suitable her ardor is. It reminds him of himself, as he’s aware of the things he can’t hide when he’s essentially in a rapturous state.

Their mutual effect on the other instills a lot of things unspoken.

—————

She feels alive, enlightened from the past several hours of so many truths, as well as the delicious food and pointed attention from Dew.

He’s really taken care of her, uplifted her, and she acknowledges how apparent this is, even in the time before she was fully aware of it. Before they even knew each other.

She looks at him now, wanting only to hold onto and kiss him more. She’d do anything he wanted to do, reflecting on all he deserves and how ready she is to bring him that happiness in fulfillment of love.

But he always seems to be a step ahead of her, making it almost impossible to keep up as he continues to spoil her, and he does so now.

He’s impossible when he takes her hand and kisses it, asking if she’d like to see some of the estate, become officially acquainted with her new home.

Its elation she feels at hearing this. It sends her that he’s referred to the estate as hers. Its so intimate and she hopes it can remain this way between them, certain that it'll only get better from here.

She really does want so much, finding it imperative that Dew share these things with her so she can familiarize her dwelling.

It will be helpful to connect sources together with places, how everything he’s shared so far will only become more clear as she understands what she now inhabits, and the world she will move through.

Its considerate of him to offer this, especially as he’s failed terribly to stifle several yawns since asking. She’s so taken by this, all his complexities, and she accepts his offer with unveiled excitement.

—————

Dew slides off the counter then, reveling in the movement as it reawakens his stiffening limbs. He does a pace, and its uncharacteristic when he takes the empty containers and bottles that Selene is gathering.

He discards them in a flourish, then goes to re-lock Copia’s goods before returning to help her off the counter. He just never can pass up a moment to be extra as fuck.

He knows she’s more than capable to do this on her own, but he assists anyway, although he’s less protective in his approach. He just needs to touch her again, even if its only for a quick moment.

But she actually seeks to prolong their touch, and its as unexpected as it is welcomed when she hugs Dew once she's back on her feet.

She kisses him with thanks, and its not just because of the past few hours they’ve spent together- all the insights he’s provided, the food, the company and how safe she feels.

She thanks Dew wordlessly for everything he’s done beyond this night too, kissing him with a slow burn that carries great emotional value.

He accepts all of it, holding her tight in return as she continues with her kiss of appreciation for all that he is - hoping it reaches his heart.


	15. and all this science, I don't understand.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dew takes Selene on a tour of the estate, and they find themselves behind forbidden doors.

Dew and Selene walk together under the unending kaleidoscope of colored light that filters through the stained glass windows that adorn much of the abbey.

Its really a beautiful thing to behold - how the reds and blues hit differently depending on the direction they take in relation to the sun, which manages to periodically interrupt the overcast of the day.

The colors dance across them, reflective off Dew’s mask and onto the walls and flooring as they move through the interior of the estate in the early afternoon hours.

Selene’s still without shoes, which Dew thinks is ridiculous, although she’s insisted on continuing their tour in this manner so she can really “feel the connection to this place”. She had wanted to do that uninterrupted upon the ground she walked on, something he felt was rather whimsical, as well.

That in mind, he silently contemplates more creative ways he’d like to connect Selene to her home as he begins pointing out common rooms and their various uses. He includes additional details, like the best times to find the areas free or with minimal inhabitants. He thinks its important to mention, should she require privacy or simply ever seek solitude in a place somewhere other than a bedroom, as he's aware of how lively the estate can become when everyone is in full residence.

It’s useful information, as if he could read how essential this might be to her, and it is. She’s also surprised to find that Dew displays many tendencies of an introvert, despite how much his personality actually alludes to that of an extrovert. It makes him impossibly more layered, and she appreciates the complexity- completely understanding his need to disconnect and go into himself. She's similarly compelled by natural extinct to do this, herself.

\----------

The time passes at leisure and Selene would like to think this is something they can maintain beyond the days to come, however many they have left solely to themselves. And surely they'd have choices, even at full occupancy, finding available opportunities to be alone together at any given place provided the number of rooms, secret alcoves, lounging areas and libraries at their disposal.

He invites her to the use and access of all these places as he shows them to her, including the additional places provided for the ghouls in the south wing. Among these things, Dew mentions a grotto, which intrigues her to know more, to visit it herself and he assures her they will go there. She’s feeling a need to discover so many more places, including the garden she’s glimpsed from the windows, as well as the massive hedge maze beyond that.

She also knows a lake exists, something that seems to be of great significance by the way Dew mentions it. But he soon moves on, beginning to explain in depth the various quarters- of who resides where and what their status within the clergy is. In this conversation, the thought also occurs to him that Selene could have her own room if she wanted. But if she did, he was certain it wouldn’t be in the same wing as him, as it was strictly exclusive to ghouls, unless of course - they shared his room.

At least, he was pretty sure that was the exception to the house rules. Either way, he decides to casually mention this to her as they ascend the grand staircase that takes them to the second floor of the North wing.

Its not what he wants, but its important that she knows she has options to what she prefers as far as sleeping arrangements go. And it would be paramount to have this established before everyone returned, thinking the transition to her own space would be an easier adjustment the sooner it happened. He rationalizes that she could familiarize herself without interruption then, but truly - he just knows he would be mad, practically hurt if she somehow didn't want to be with him. He knows if that were true, he’d do everything to distance himself from her, knowing he wouldn’t want to see her as a reminder of such rejection.

He really hopes this won’t be the case, and that she'll immediately decline the offer.

He’s anticipating her response as they keep moving up the stairs, but then he suddenly feels her resistance from the hold he’s had on her hand. Its stops him from proceeding to the next step, turning instead to find her in a stare thats crestfallen.

Shit.

She’s searching for the words, he can tell and she looks…hurt. She looks as if she's just been discarded, and its not his intention in the least.

He’s really starting to get exasperated with himself now, how every small kindness he seems to be taking an extra step to ensure all seems to be backfiring on him.

He means well, but maybe he’s doing this all wrong. He has to be, because why else would she look like she could cry right now?

\----------

“You…don’t want me to stay with-“

Dew rushes back down the two steps that separates them, closing the space as he goes to her. And he interrupts her words, her entire train of thought when he lays a finger against her lips to silence her, because he doesn't want to hear anymore of that nonsense.

He can see the tears beginning to pool as her eyes search his, and he knows he’s fucked up because this is actually such a tender subject.

The reality is, she has no one other than him. And she’s likely interpreted his good intentioned offer as a brush off to somehow rid him of her.

That thought it so ridiculous that he almost can't accept it, but its so clear that this is whats upsetting her now.

Once again, Dew you fucking idiot.

He’s so annoyed at himself, that he somehow missed the mark here through a lack of sensitivity. And he realizes now that he probably should have handled the topic a bit more honest and not left things so open to interpretation.

Everything is undoubtedly still super raw for her, and he actually can’t even begin to comprehend the actual levels of her mental exhaustion.

The realizations make him actually ache for her, hating that she feels this way and that he's absolutely the reason she is about to cry now. It’s kind of breaking his heart actually, seeing the hurt and panic that’s so apparent in her eyes.

She looks like she’s bracing for the impact of being abandoned.

He hates himself.

\----------

Selene absolutely doesn’t want to be alone, and she's fearful now that this is where everything is going. He had completely taken her off guard with his proposal, suggesting she have her own room or at least contemplate if she wanted one.

It seemed apparent to her what the nature of their relationship would be, and in her mind, that somehow entailed being together as far as room arrangements went.

If they were going to be together, which she hoped they would be, she wanted to be there with him too. But maybe Dew needed his space, which she could rationalize from the standpoint that he himself hadn't chosen the situation that either of them found themselves in now.

Although actually...this had all been his choice, hadn't it?

She thinks she’s perhaps acting too clingy and if that’s the case, she knows it’s being projected, no matter how inadvertently. She hates herself, that she sounds so needy, emotionally unstable when she asks him for clarification of his offhanded remark, full heartedly thinking he means to separate them.

Why wouldn’t she want to stay with him? It perplexes her that he would even ask, suggest this. How could he possibly think this is something she would want?

Stupid boy. She can't bring herself to believe his motives are a means to an end. Goddamn, she doesn't know what to believe and she wishes he would say something, anything before all her emotional resolve crumbles.

\----------

Dew brings her back to him with a squeeze on her hand, and then she's looking up to him again.

“Don’t. Cry.”

He sounds stern when he says it, but the implication is actually anything but ridicule. He eases her worries as his eyes roam her face, and she can tell his features are soft. Dew really means well on this, and he’s so reassuring when he speaks again, lower this time- almost a whisper. It grants her peace of mind.

“I had to ask, so you could choose. I won’t make this decision for you, Selene.”

And its true - its so important that he gives her as many freedoms for autonomy as possible. Its the least he feels he can do because again, he's forever aware that he's already made the ultimate choice for her…to live.

So all the rest will be hers. He just hopes they align with what he wants too, where she’s involved.

He can see then that she's relieved and in turn, so is he as he watches her smile slowly form. She looks at him with forgiving eyes at her unexpected display of emotion, but she has nothing to be sorry for, although he can respect the uncontrolled nature of how quickly irrational emotions can rise to the surface.

Uninvited, to ruin everything.

Dew knows this and thinks at some point he’s going to need to tell her to quit apologizing, because it really is all so unfounded. In the same breadth, he’s going to need to stop blaming himself for putting them in their current situation.

He'd ultimately saved her life, and neither of them were alone anymore. He can’t find the regret in these decisions, knowing there is none and he’s not sorry on this point.

He really fucking hopes he’s made it clear where he stands on the matter- how much he wants her, and how much he probably needs her too.

He braces for whats about to hit him, sensing that she's about to speak.

“I want to stay with you.”

He realizes these are the words he’s been longing to hear.

Assuming this would be the way she felt was one thing, but hearing them puts everything on the table in the realization of all it encompasses. And he doubts anyone has ever actually said such a thing to him, at least not that he can recall and definitely not in the way she means it.

Most people he’s encountered eventually exhaust their time with him. And it happens very quickly how they so often find their tolerance levels of him waning early on.

To Dew, it always seemed that others couldn't get away fast enough and it soon became a facet of his life, along with his conscious decision to not be offended by it.

He's steeled himself in this way, so as not to ever feel overly hurt by others when they leave, which is something he feels is inevitable. 

In this regard, Selene’s sincerity affects an untapped piece of Dew’s heart, hitting him with brilliant force. He really shouldn’t be surprised, because this is her and she is different- better than all the rest, all of his past.

A true fucking gem.

He knows this isn’t just about the room or where she sleeps, either. He looks at her, really seeing her as he studies that sweet face of hers, how she looks back at him with those pleading eyes that tell so many truths of their destiny.

Somehow he knows this is forever as she continues to touch so many parts of his heart, and its ridiculous how heavy it feels now when he looks at her, seeing her mirrored longing for everything he feels too.

He’s still holding her hand, and he finally gives it a pull, lifting her arm to place it on his shoulder as he draws her back into his arms.

So close again, its perfect how they see each other eye to eye. Their height is everything, completely matched and its effortless when she leans in, responding to his command with all the fervor of a wish granted.

“I want you to stay. Now, kiss me.”

————

The North Wing could be described as the forbidden section, as its strictly comprised of rooms and studies of the superiors. But because they’re alone with no one to stop them, Dew decides to play a mystery game of “whats behind the door?” as he urges Selene to pick one, thrilled by the concept of breaking more rules with her.

He stands behind her, with arms wrapped around her front. They're so down with the closeness as he casually rests his chin on her shoulder, turning her in every direction as he provides all the options before them.

He doesn’t give indication of the rooms he’s partial to, as he’s aware that the level of risk at entering one over the other is relatively equal. He simply remains neutral, allowing her the time to decide as he exhibits his patience by occupying his lips against her neck.

She’s silent for several moments, a combination of honest mulling over her decision and indulging in the incredible skill of Dew's mouth as he adores her. She knows she has to make a good room choice, one thats worth the risk of being broken into, and that could possibly justify interrupting this moment.

Dew's affection feels so good. She almost doesn’t want to move, much less think.

Eventually the door is decided, but the delay of her response is further impacted by the way she’s being held, with Dew pressed beautifully against her backside. And she thinks not to interrupt him, feeling they both want to extend the moment as she falls back towards him in enjoyment of his soft nuzzling against her neck and hair.

The coolness of his mask soothes her and his lips seek to reignite everything when he presses them back against her exposed skin. He provides so many lovely tingles, to the point of sensitivity, and its so good, almost too good to withstand. Even still, she wants more.

She lifts her arm, reaching back to wrap it around his neck, and it triggers Dew’s hands to roam again as he splays his fingers across her abdomen. He wants to keep her close too, so he does. With a claiming touch, he moves his hands over her sides to follow the curves of her gorgeous form before eventually coming to a stopping grip on her hips - so womanly, it kills him.

He just wants endless handfuls of her, all the luscious bits that are driving him insane. And he really wants to go into one of the rooms, thinking they need a more comfortable arrangement if he’s going to continue with his pointed attention.

“You feel so good, darling one. Pick a door.”

He’s fully aware of the endearment, how very foreign it is to refer to someone in this way, but its effortless with her as it rolls from his tongue without premeditation. He feels it to be so appropriate, because she really is that fucking great - that revered.

She's really that fucking darling to him.

Its strange, but perfect and he’s so pleased when he feels her lean further back into him to feel his lips and touch more directly. Its so clear that she wants him and he adores that open display to be close.

She speaks then - "the red one", and he’s beyond excited as she raises her finger to point at the chosen door. Thank Satan.

Dew feels that the day just keeps getting better when she unintentionally guesses at the room he’d been secretly hoping to break into. He disentangles from her then, walking to the door, where he leans down and begins work with his fingers.

He's hyperaware of his actions, with so many strikes against him now, and he knows that he can't fuck up the lock picking. He’s equally aware that any inkling of a superior's room being broken into will undoubtedly point back to them, and ultimately result in him being kicked out on his ass should they be found out.

Still, its a lesser offense than removing his mask, so its a risk he’s willing to take.

Et Voila.

The lock clicks and he pushes it open, turning back to Selene to beckon her forth and into the Cardinal’s personal library.

——————

The room is spacious while maintaining an air of coziness, and as with the rest of the abbey decor, its also richly furnished. The dark colors and heavy woods instill a tranquility one might expect of a study, the inner personal dwelling of someone who holds great responsibility. And she knows the Cardinal is highly revered

Although she hasn’t met him, she feels the presence of him in the subtleties that surround them and its so in tune with everything she’s heard from Dew. There’s a maturity to the space, a wisdom and worldly view that translates from the grand desk adorned with documents and priceless trinkets, to the south wall thats lined with heavy tomes.

Selene moves slowly, taking time to consider the art thats been chosen for this private, yet professional space. The Cardinal has definitely made it his own, filling the walls with images that range from artful depictions of Heaven and Hell, Blueprints of cathedrals to portraits of himself and…rats?

He’s definitely a curious man - one with many oddities and she finds that she's very much looking forward to meeting him, especially now that she knows the extent with which he’s protected and cared for Dew. Along with that, his eccentricities move her to intrigue, as he sounds like quite the character, clearly one with a tendency towards some madness. She finds it unique for someone in such a high station.

\----------

Selene continues the perusal, knowing Dew is watching her from the opposite end of the room as he perches atop Copia’s desk. She gives a look back at him and they exchange a knowing smile as he silently encourages her exploration. She’s finding that she loves that about him - how he’s exalted when he’s with her, but has enough insight to know when she might require space.

He can get relatively clingy when he’s in need of attention, and he definitely craves that from her, but at current - Dew himself is so relaxed, he’s happy to leave her to her own devices. Its an easy state that he falls into as he watches her move with that same look of wonder as what he'd witnessed from her earlier when they had first entered the kitchen.

Its even more apparent now and he’s finding that he really adores his impact on her interests - how in bringing her here, he's brought her this small joy. And its enough to bring a smile to his face when she reaches the books.

In fact, it makes everything worth it to see her so clearly enamored. A beautiful display of disbelief as she finds the contents on the shelf to be first edition texts, some hundreds of years old.

She’s freaking out when she pulls a binder filled with Da Vinci’s anatomical sketches from the selection before her. She wordlessly turns to Dew, wide eyed as he confirms them to be authentic, chuckling as he hears her murmur “holy shit”.

Turning back to the shelf, she grabs some additional texts before sinking into a nearby wing chair to mull over the timeless works in her hands.

Some minutes later, a movement in the room catches her attention again.

She looks up to see Dew making his way to the couch thats situated in the middle of the room, in a space that makes up a formal sitting area.

With his own book in hand, she watches him plop down, disappearing from her view beyond the back of the couch, save for his feet, which he has rudely placed on the furniture’s armrest.

She rolls her eyes again, thinking him ridiculously rebellious as she returns to her study of the material before her, still shaken over the content’s author.

————

Dew sighs in contentment as he eases further into the comfort of Copia’s leather couch. He’d thought to read through some of the recent diaries that had so conveniently been left atop the work desk - hoping they'd offer some insight into the future plans of the church. But while he cared, knowing it would impact him and Selene, he soon found he was no match to the comforting state he kept falling further into as the promise of slumber threatened to consume him with its siren song.

Its all solidified further when he kicks off his shoes and allows his eyes to drift shut. But he still sees the vision of Selene- excited, in awe and so beautiful in his mind’s eye. He understands her feelings, how “once in a lifetime” all this is, but especially the most revered things from her old world, like the works of the great masters. And while he appreciates these things too, he knows its more profound for her - holding much relevance in their ties to her clear passion for the arts and sciences.

To him, she is the actual art and his developing feelings play at the science behind it. He has yet to obtain a formula, any true explanation for his feelings and he finds he really doesn’t care. 

With that thought, he closes his eyes with finality, comfortable in his repose amidst the lowlit room and the faint sound of pages turning as Selene continues reading. Its overcast outside again, and the sun has definitely retired for the day- making the time indistinguishable again, although he knows it must be late afternoon now.

He’s impressed that he’s been able to hold on this long, happy to know she’s occupied with things of great value for the time being. It soothes him to know she’s happy, that she’s safe and with him. And with that, Dew can’t stay awake any longer, eventually collapsing into sleep by the comforts that surround him- her happiness, the distant rumbles of thunder outside and his final surrender to the exhaustion of so many sleepless nights.

\----------

Selene comes back to the present a time later. She’s immersed herself with the impossible history before her, thinking her chosen door has made her quite lucky.

She can’t imagine what other treasures dwell within the estate, but she feels entirely satiated by the selection that Copia’s study provides. Then the thought occurs to her that Dew may have been strategic with his suggestion for the door game. Knowing now what he does of her love for the arts and history - its entirely plausible that he took a risk in the hopes he'd be able to fill her with this happiness.

And its true, she was happy and he had made it so.

Thinking of him now, she realizes that she’s completely forgotten about Dew, as impossible as that seems. She assumed he’d be reading, falling into a comfortable silence early on as she’d curled up near a window with her latest findings. She knew he was on the couch, but a quick glance that way and all she can see are his feet, where they still lay perched on the couch's armrest. But something seems off, as if his presence has somehow become muted.

She's found, very quickly actually, that even without words, Dew’s energy continues to infiltrate spaces. Except for now - the stillness and the silence is palpable. It moves her to rise from the cozy sitting area, affectionately re-shelving the books with great care before going to see what her ghoul is up to.

Circling around the couch, she finds him fast asleep and the sight truly melts her. He looks so relaxed, content with his soft snores that sound more like purrs, and she loves how he appears almost child-like with his hands resting on the book he’s holding against his chest.

She imagines how much sleep he must be in need of and she’s appreciative that he managed to hold out as long as he had. Theres a sweet kindness behind it that she acknowledges- how he obviously pushed himself forward with his wakefulness in order to extend their time together and share all this with her.

That in mind, she knows he's most deserving of this unplanned dozing, and she feels its the least she can provide him- this temporary solitude.

Of course she wants him awake, already missing his eyes, that voice…the touch. 

And she’s so tired of being alone, thinking of all the days before him, how altogether unattached she had become to everything. It was a great emptiness that consumed her, and it’s one she never wants to feel again - that terrible darkness that had compelled her to a welcome surrendering for death.

She's so grateful that it didn't happen, and its sobering to know that Dew really was the bridge between her life and her death.

\----------

Selene reflects on this now as she leaves him to sleep, walking down the darkening halls to revisit the cathedral he had pointed out earlier as she backtracks those steps.

Its a familiar comfort, and although she isn’t religious - it reminds her of a simpler time, her childhood and her family when she arrives back into the space. Its massive, very much a sacred dwelling, and not at all what she had expected for a clergy to require as they praised Satan.

But she was aware that things were rarely what they seemed, and the broadening of her understanding in this regard, in every regard, helped immensely towards her acceptance of the many intricacies of this new life.

Like everything else, the church is gorgeous, and she uses the time to silently come to terms with all that she knows, everything as it is now. This is her Paradise Lost...or had she been found?

She walks the main aisle, seemingly unending as she ghosts her way amidst the black pews. She begins to recall all the loved ones she’s known, and it makes her heart incredibly heavy as she goes through the emotions. She accepts them, despite the pain- allowing them to hit her with full force until she's too weak to stand. Its necessary for her to open herself to everything she feels, and it’s equally necessary for the tears to well. They threaten to flow as they impede her vision and make her weak in the knees.

And then she's completely overtaken in her emotion, sobbing as she takes a seat to disrupt the serenity of this beautiful place in total privacy.

Selene is led to a state of exultation in this release, touched with absolution in her personal reflection. And she’s filled with unending gratitude over her second chance at life. 

She knows that her dozing demon angel is the reason for all of this - the reason why she is breathing, why she feels safe, cared for. Its all because of him, only him.

\----------

When Selene returns to the study, she finds Dew still asleep, and she aches to touch him.

While she doesn’t want to wake him, the sight of him sleeping on the couch reminds her of her occupancy in his bed all these days. She knows he hadn’t slept there as well, probably not at all or very little.

In fact, she’s certain that he had been waiting for her to wake up, which was never something that could be anticipated with certainty. And as he was there both times she had awoken unexpectedly, she’s convinced he hadn’t slept at all.

Its so obvious, based on how deeply he’s breathing and how much comfort he’s found in such a simple spot. Although the couch seems inviting, its undoubtedly no match to his bed and she would know, she's already aching to jump back in it.

And she wishes him to return to these comforts as well, with her this time. Its another concept that warms her, and it soon outweighs her protest of waking him as she sits down to affectionately caress his arm.

She gives him a bit of a squeeze at the elbow when her first touch is not immediately effective, finding the added pressure is enough to stir him.

“Dew, lets go to bed.”

He shifts then, though failing to open his eyes - although she’s sure that he hears her. And he’s adorable in his grogginess, blindly reaching out for her arm. Once in his grip, he tugs on it with the intent to pull her down to lay with him.

Its effective, ridiculously effortless as she falls into him willingly. She has no objections when he wraps his arms around her, holding her blissfully tight as he whispers an unconvincing promise that they’ll sleep for just 5 more minutes before going back over to the south wing.

She’s in less of a rush now, anyway.

She settles more comfortably against him, finding that the chill has crept in again with the transitioning of the day back into night. But in Dew’s arms, his body remedies the temperature drop as he provides the perfect warmth for her, which draws her further into a state of matched comfort.

And although Dew is unknowing of the effect of his needy hold on her, how its just a bit too tight- it works to console. Being with him removes the loneliness and she's glad to be back with him, held so protectively against him in the comfort of his embrace.

She feels her body relax significantly as she drapes her arm across his front, pulling into him further. And she's holding him just as tight as she's being held when she falls asleep minutes later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10/10 chance the next chapter is going to be naaaaaaasty.


	16. Beyond imagination.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midnight interludes and a lusty love that lingers.

The thunder wakes Dew with it's violent demand, and he opens his eyes to find that the light of the room has begun to flicker.

A chance look out the window confirms nightfall, but its still not raining. He doesn’t know why he’s anticipating it, but he is, thinking it might also be the signifier of the clergy returning home. Like everything else, its inevitable but the mysterious nature of fate and time continues to frequent his thoughts. He can’t decipher what much of it means, but finds in the grand scheme, its not so important.

At least, not at the moment. 

He’s feeling rather lovey, incredibly relaxed within the shared warmth of his and Selene's combined bodies on Copia’s couch and he thinks he could stay like this forever. He actually low-key loves a good cuddle and he’s enjoying this immensely- the way she feels in his arms and how she’s holding him almost possessively in her sleep.

He tilts his head to see her more clearly. Just magnificent, he thinks, watching as she moves with every rise and fall of his chest- the place where she’s ultimately chosen to rest her head. And Dew realizes how much he wants this - the closeness, and how satisfying it actually is to hold someone and be held back with the same care and trust.

It translates the reliance, the care and how apparent they both are in need of it. In fact, its really bringing to light just how fucking alone he’s been all this time, so clearly missing this aspect of life - companionship, but also something else.

This seems unconditional, and its so many other things as well. Things that he can’t define, and Selene herself - she is… inexplainable.

He’s astounded by all the things she makes him feel, things he wasn’t entirely certain he was capable of feeling, but he had been wrong, so very wrong. With his thoughts, he finds that he misses her, even as she continues sleeping soundly in his arms.

Dew wants her attention, and he needs her, so he wakes her.

He begins kissing her forehead, skimming his lips along her smooth skin as he reaches over to tuck some of her gorgeous hair behind her ear. He’s very gentle in the approach and when his attentions begin to stir her, he pulls back enough to watch her open her eyes. Stunning eyes, framed by stunning lashes and he isn’t sure if he’s ever going to get over her beauty. 

The impact of her stare stops his fingers from their advancement. She holds him captivated. 

—————

Selene had been devoid of dreams, grateful that the warmth of Dew’s embrace had inadvertently worked to dissuade ill thoughts or nightmares. She wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep, but when that first loving kiss touched her face, she was called back to lucidity and it had been a sweet summoning. 

She thinks her soul must have wanted this and she’s not regretful of being pulled out of sleep when she opens her eyes to find Dew staring at her. His expression is something new, something she feels when she looks at him too, although she can’t describe it. 

Something is different, altered, and they get lost in the moment, lost in the eyes of the other. 

She doesn’t think she will ever get over how absolutely beautiful she finds him, or how right it feels for her to be with him in this way, despite the oddity of their differences. At current, he is actually giving her the absolute feeling of adoration as he searches her face and she just wants to return it a million times over. 

And there isn’t a lot to say, as they know the moment they’ve found themselves in is perfect.

Its perfect in the way he’s seeing her, like he’s the first one ever and Selene thinks perhaps she wants him to be the only one, the last one. She thinks he must know this, that surely he can feel this yearning from her, and his eyes say as much as he continues to stare with reflective thought. 

She moves her touch to his waist a few moments later, giving him a squeeze to knock them both out of the trance they’ve pulled themselves into. She’s so hungry for his mouth, intent on tasting against his tongue again, and it can't wait. She seeks that attention, demanding it of him with a roughened voice. 

"Kiss me." 

—————

Dew likes her when she’s assertive, impossibly turned on when she gets bossy like this.

He resumes the delving of his fingers into her hair, pulling it gently to lift her face so that their lips can meet. He kisses her as much from his physical ache to do so, as because she’s demanded this of him, and he doesn’t know who wants this more. He’s warmed by her roaming touch, that lovely glide along the side of his body as he takes her mouth in another fiery kiss.

And Selene could have sworn this was the sexiest kiss of her existence- everything intensified as she receives it while being laid down with Dew. Their bodies become entangled and its a beautiful addition to their physical connection. He’s holding her face to his, imprisoning her with the onslaught of his mouth and its perfection the way he goes slow and sooo deep with his tongue before retreating and coming back for more. 

Somewhere, not so far off in her mind, she wonders if he will make love to her in this way - achingly slow, frustratingly hot, beautiful. She can’t believe the patience of him, but its clear he’s enjoying this, and he makes it known that her pleasure is paramount.

It kills her because she almost didn’t expect this from him, but she loves it so fucking much. 

He’s an absolute babe, kissing her raw again with all the hard presses of his mask against her face. She doesn’t mind it - only that she is dying to feel his skin, touch his face, kiss all the beauty she knows is just beneath the metallic surface. It drives her insane being this limited, but for now, his lips really are enough - his mouth is everything. 

She redirects her touch from the side of his face to fall onto his chest, rubbing lazily against it to keep contact and acquaint herself with more parts of him. In the midst of this, Dew’s hand moves of it’s own accord, leaving her hair swiftly to travel over her own chest for a delicious squeeze until he feels her nipples harden against his palm.

They temporarily break their kiss to consider their touch on each other, and its clearly such a turn on for them both, although Dew really wishes Selene would kick up the boldness and touch him in the way he’s been touching her. He knows his suspenders are slightly impeding, but his nipples are aching to be played with as well. 

He wants it a lot, but he calms himself, assured it will happen in time - he just has to get her there...

As he thinks this, he seeks to advance, lowering his touch further down her body to grab at her leg, and then he’s lifting her thigh to lay across his front. He’s so in love with the weight of her on him, knowing where he wants to go with this as he begins kissing her again.

She feels fucking amazing as he grabs and squeezes at her hips and ass, moving her tighter against him while he takes her breath. And of course, he’s getting harder by the second as his own body seeks a certain friction, needing the heat that lays between her thighs - how he wants it grinding against him. 

Damn, he wants it now! And he knows she will too, so he interrupts their kiss to murmur against her lips. He’s sweet in the demand, but its non-negotiable when he tells her to get on top of him. He says this to her even as he's in motion, instigating this new position of opportunity with a firm pull. Dew finds that he really needs this from her and he’s on fire when she willingly complies.

The both of them are fully out of sleep now.

—————

Dew is making her weak! Everything from the feel of his hardness, so apparent now as she straddles him, to the look in his eyes as he stares up at her with their icy blue intensity. She feels the excitement, the increase of her heart when he squeezes at her thighs with those gorgeous hands. Then he's leaning up to invade her space again, as he begs for her kiss.

It empowers her and she happily obliges, kissing Dew with great depth and emotion as she feels his hands move up to her hips for anchoring. And he’s digging his fingers into her flesh there in the way she’s learning that he loves. And she loves it too- his appreciative touch and how calculated he becomes with his intentions as he begins to position her to align with his hard dick. 

She follows his direction, allowing his steady guidance as she lowers herself fully onto his very evident bulge. Once there, he lays back with a loud exhale to lounge and enjoy the sight of her as she begins a slow grind against him.

—————

Selene feels an immaculate sense of wonder, hows its been brought forth in this new physical contact with Dew. Its so electric touching parts of him so much more directly and it awakens her impossibly more in her desire to be with him in every way. Its inevitable they will get there. She’s so certain of this, and she knows she wants it, even if she's afraid, nervous.

This…feels so good and she’s needed it for so long. The attention, the appreciation, the sex and all it’s lovely preludes and she knows she will never have better than him. 

Dew is incomparable, and he's driving her crazy with his tight grip and the way he's allowing her control while also giving her none. He adds so many sparks to their intimate contact when he starts a subtle lift of his hips, hitting in perfect time with Selene as their bodies collide again and again in an everlasting way. Its all so promising, and fuck! - he’s perfect, and so hard. 

Its almost as good as the real thing, and she’s certain its not just because she’s been so fucking deprived of such intimacy. Dew is the hottest, the most assured, and without a doubt, the sexiest she’s ever been with. 

She can’t get enough of him - how he looks underneath her, carrying so much fire with him as he watches her lustfully, working to get himself off as well, by the friction alone. 

She wants to give him so much, and its a wonder - truly, a fucking wonder that he hasn’t just had his way with her. He could have, she knows. So. Many. Damn. Times.

But he’s waited, so patiently and the idea of that is almost more than she can take. The sight of him is everything, and then its too much when she starts to feel completely undeserving and the unwelcome nerves begin to set it again and make her feel nauseous. She’s soon overtaken by this.

Its inexplicable, and Selene is unsure if its stems from shyness, guilt or an emotion thats not yet been defined. But without warning, she stops moving against Dew, stops moving altogether and without a word, she motions to move away from him and off the couch.

————— 

Dew's reaction is as immediate as his intuition, and he prevents her retreat when he quickly sits up and wraps his arms around Selene. He senses a measure of panic radiating from her as he holds onto her, caring with his tight embrace. This is something he didn't anticipate.

Things were going so well, but despite that - he believes he has an understanding to whatever unnamed plight she’s facing. He works to soothe her with tender attention, beginning a rub against her back with no sexual intent behind it as he sobers from his lust.

He’s caring again, sensing that she’s frustrated although its promising that she’s wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him to continue to hold her. She feels overly heated, and for whatever reason, only Satan knows- she’s also embarrassed. Its telling when she buries her face against his neck, unable to look at him when she admits this. 

“I can’t do this!”

Ridiculous words, but he holds her anyway, unmoving- save for his caress at her back, to allow her time to reclaim some of her control. He eventually whispers to her, hoping it will put her at ease and he really needs her to understand this because he fucking means it. 

“Don’t ever be embarrassed, not with me. Nothing about this is wrong and you-” He has to pull her away from him, far enough so he can look in her eyes again- ensuring that she hears this and feels it when he says- “you are perfect. So damn perfect.”

And its true, she is absolute perfection to Dew- the sweetest girl he’s ever met and he’s so unaccustomed to this level of shyness. Its endearing- seeing her struggle with her desire for him and also the rationalization of their situation- who he is and how soon this is all happening. Something about it fucking moves him and he finds that he’s unbothered by the interruption, and thats new to him too.

But he’s appeased, for he knows he’s still going to give her what she needs - even if it means suspending his own physical desires once again. He doesn’t care at this point- how he's now resolved to put her needs above his own, and he wants to! Its another "first" for him as he continues to console her with caresses and an uncharacteristically patient touch. 

He begins playing with tendrils of her hair, wrapping the dark beauty of it around his finger as he allows her time to let his words sink in, her breathing to even. Then she says his name and it brings him back to her, seeing her eyes pleading acceptance of her unspoken apology. 

He gives a wistful sigh, just wondering when this lovely creature is going to learn how incredibly weak she makes him. So much so, he forgets who he is sometimes. And also that her apology is so unfounded, for he can't fault her for any of this and he tells her as much.

Then, with great ease, he shifts them again, turning to lay Selene down on her back as he presses his own body against her side. 

Hovering over her, he watches his own fingers as they move to trace along her face before delving into her hair again. He clutches at it, holding her in place- exactly where he wants her for this next kiss. Its set up perfectly, as he senses she needs this take over, not wanting to extinguish their burning chemistry, yet unwilling to continue the lead. 

This is all so new for them both, how they’ve clearly entered into a new level on intimacy, and while Dew can understand how she feels, he does not share the sentiment of nerves where his physical needs are concerned. He can’t recall ever being shy - especially by anything of a sexual nature, but he lets this slide for her.

He's aware of how he presents at times - rather intense, intimidating, demanding and that he can come off very strong when he wants something, needs it... Even still, she seems to see past these surface traits of his, and he's always going to be moved by that. 

Truthfully, he’s confident in all she has to give, because he knows her potential as a strong-willed lover, as well. Theres so much fucking compatibility and her kisses, as well as her touch has very much alluded to all her sexual potentials. He just knows she could instigate, even dominate, should she choose…and Dew knows she will, that she just needs to be eased into it.

He’ll work for that, but he won’t pressure her for it or demand it too soon. 

He looks down at her then, considering her beautiful face as his thumb glides against her elegant cheekbone and he relishes how pure she seems, how soft. Its obvious she’s more calm now, and that she still wants to move forward by way of her open mouth, and that look of anticipation as she waits for his. Oh yes - she wants him, and its pretty forward when she reaches for his tie, pulling him down to close the distance between them.

It gives him the perfect opportunity to descend on her lips with renewed hunger.

—————

His tongue strokes hers languidly, advancing to taste in a dizzying dance that teases and moves to encourage more open participation. She’s fully present in the kiss, but he thinks even if she hadn’t been- he wouldn’t have given her a choice.

Dew gets lost when he kisses her deeply like this, just as he likes - all consuming. He’s the greatest when his mouth is at work.

And it will forever exhilarate him to know he’s indefinitely tied to the most gorgeous woman of his existence- one who’s so giving and so fucking willing to reciprocate everything he offers, suggests…demands. Its all so encouraging and he devours her mouth further, knowing he must be abrading her beautiful face again from the stark edges of his mask, complimentary to the bites he gives her lips, but he cannot make himself give a fuck. 

He gets into a position of greater comfort, readjusting his weight as he swings one of his legs over hers. And he resumes a wandering touch along her body as his leg instinctually pulls hers to open slowly, so as not to panic her.

Kissing her once more, he breaks from her lips to point his attentions to his hand, watching as it descends her exquisite form and he knows she needs to catch her breath. He leans down to place a quick kiss at the center of her heaving chest, noting her body’s response to him. He thinks her such a brave girl- how she's allowed him to keep her open to his touch and how welcoming she is of all the places he's kissed.

Its subtle when he locks her in a stare again, an effective distraction as he pulls her legs further apart. His hand keeps going down…

Selene looks at him, considering the sensation of his touch and how it ghosts down her trembling body. She’s intent to remain calm, because she knows she wants this and that anticipation incinerates them both.

Dew’s hand is getting closer now, so fucking close and he thinks she must know he's wanted to touch her here for…too long. The silence is as deafening as the anticipation and his excitement - how he lives for this, knowing the capabilities of his fingers.

He's just passed a hand over her hip and at this point, he’s doing this whether she thinks she’s ready or not. Without a doubt, Dew knows she will enjoy it- that he will make certain of it, but even still - he finds himself looking back to her face to make sure she’s okay.

Her eyes are wide, a reflection of obsidian in her desire, although she’s not full-on wanton with her beauty. But she is breathless again and he can almost hear the rapid beating of her heart, and his feels like his is ready to burst at the sight of her. 

"You're so fucking gorgeous."

Looking into those striking eyes, he speaks only the truth as his hand advances to her inner thigh. Her skin is so warm and he's so close, his fingers have just begun to brush the delicate fabric of her underwear. He just really can't wait anymore as he moves his hand down to fully cup her sex and he’s almost there…but at the last second, she clamps her thighs shut tight, imprisoning his hand from further advancement in renewed panic.

Dew can’t fault her for this, thinking she has every right to be nervous, because this wouldn’t be something she did openly with just anyone. He just knows this in his bones, as he knows it’s very fast for her to be progressing this far, but just as truthful as that is, so too is how undeniable their connection is. Everything about this makes sense, it feels so right, and he’s adamant to give her pleasure, something deeper now. 

She has to let him. 

“Selene, quit thinking”, he coos, kissing against her cheek as he leans in, “Let me touch you, sweet girl.”

Her face is on fire, but she gives in, unable to resist as she turns her face to look at him in that soulful way thats full of trust. She sees only him, staring into his piercing eyes as she simultaneously releases the tension from her body, finally opening her legs to his intimate touch. 

———— 

He adores her blush, how impossibly more beautiful she becomes in her surrender as he palms her through the fabric, allowing time for her to get accustomed to his touch. He alternates the pressure, occasionally moving to caress her thighs as they ease into this. But his patience soon slips, overridden by his need to progress further as he pushes the fabric aside to find her so wet.

His fingers are instantly drenched when he runs them between her lips, and Dew stares into her fucking soul, burning her alive as he begins to pet her slowly with an attentive hand.

“Fuckkkk baby, I do this to you?”

He knows he has, but damn its so hot! Her body’s response is sexy as fuck, as sexy as her and it feeds his ego in every way. His fingers run endlessly over her folds, spreading her wetness as he learns her body, that lightning between her thighs. He can’t even see what he’s doing, too stuck on her beautiful face to shift his visual attention elsewhere, but the sightless touch is adding impossible discovery.

It compels him to slow down, take his time and really give her what she needs as she relaxes into his touch. She welcomes it, closing her eyes for a moment to feel what he’s doing without the threatening interruption of getting lost in his gorgeous eyes as he continues to watch her. 

He’s enamored by the lovely nuisances of her face as his touch furthers in exploration, and he’s making note of all her responses - gauging the pace and pressure that sets her most alight. He wants to know everything, for he thinks she has to have the best he can give - absolutely everything she fucking wants.

Dew loves this so much, continuing his slow pace with appreciation for the build up and the sight of seeing Selene become more undone as he discovers all her secrets. Then, she’s encouraging him as she begins to move further into his touch- clearly wanting more.

She needs it when she opens her eyes again, full on lustful as she reaches up to squeeze and pull on his shoulder. 

He gets the message and leaning down, he takes her mouth in another passionate kiss- thinking it the perfect opportunity to insert his middle finger slowly into her cunt. As anticipated, he catches that lovely moan of hers in his mouth, one of surprised delight, although really - she should have seen this coming. 

Dew gauges her tightness, the subtle lift of her hips and he adds another finger with ease, continuing to fuck her off as they kiss. But she eventually breaks from his mouth, gasping for more air as she shuts her eyes again, and its all indication to him that her orgasm is building as it takes her concentration- that sought after release. 

And he's going to fucking give it to her- noting that she's definitely not shy anymore, so obviously accepting to the overwhelming needs of her body. Its undeniable, exquisite, and its kind of taking Dew’s breath away to see her like this, especially when she begins arching her back.

Its another intuitive move- this silent demand for Dew to pull his fingers in further, willing him to go deeper, all the way to the knuckle. And he does, pushing against her walls to provide the mysterious sensation that really leaves her feeling fucked with its delicious pressure.

Its so good, and she feel herself getting close. So close that she wants to kiss him, wants his tongue in her mouth when she comes. And she works for this as she lifts her face every so often to get back to his lips, hoping to connect there, as well. 

But Dew is being playful now, a fucking bitch of a tease.

Every time she gets close to kissing him, drawing near his mouth with her own, he diverts and moves his face just out of her reach. She attempts this kiss several times before resolving to lay back and take what he IS providing. But she still wants his mouth on hers, frustratingly so when she tries to pull him down. Even then, he keeps the resistance as he stays hovering, but out of reach as he continues his love on her with only his hand and fingers. 

—————

It’s a crazy juxtaposition to see her equally frustrated in want of his kiss, but also rapturous and needy as she fucks his hand. It turns him on endlessly to see her this way, like every dream coming true for him.

In fact, the vision before him is so much better than he imagined. And of course he had - all those days she'd slept, he'd imagined this. Not surprisingly, she was crushing all of these dreams with her brilliant reality.

And he feels so incredibly lucky, so hot for her. 

Yet, something within him does stir on a deeper level to know she’s seeking this emotional connection with him. Its profound, especially during such a time of intense pleasure for her. Its a new concept that he’s almost failing to understand- how despite her lust, she’s still reaching for him in order to provide him with something in return.

He actually expects nothing, but it’s also so perplexing to think this could be enough for him, and it might be true. He’s really so pleased to see her pleasured, needy - all for him and also wanting to give back.

It really fucking sends Dew, because he’s never been with someone so genuine in their adamance to reciprocate everything that he's given to them.

He’s familiar with a certain type of partner, ones mutually greedy with their needs and always working towards a self fulfilling goal of personal release. It was always just sex, just the use of another’s body to make his own feel good, and in turn - he’d allow the use of his, but...

Selene seemed to be changing that at a rapid speed, and he felt secure enough to admit it to himself. He actually felt ready for the change, now that he knew what it could entail.

—————

He avoids her lips again - not because he doesn’t want to have her mouth, but because he’s not ready to fill those senses just yet. He wants all her attention on his touch, knowing it will be good for her when he runs his thumbnail against her clit. He circles and flicks against it as he continues to fill and fuck her with long drawn out strokes. 

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

Such blasphemy, he loves it and he teases her about it when he tells her to do him a favor and move her dress up. He’s desperately in need of seeing more of her body now, how his hand moves continuously in and around her.

Dew can’t get enough of this, hooking his fingers to hit those sweet spots that get her body shaking in splendor as his touch becomes more methodical. He watches his ministrations, enamored with the way his own fingers disappear into her, feeling so much of her warmth before withdrawing, impossibly more wet and glistening.

He keeps his pace, a steady push and pull with her undulating hips until she eventually constricts around him in that blissful agony. And he can’t look away from her surrender, or how she’s now holding onto his forearm in a death grip. And he’s certain he’ll never forget her face as she reaches that ultimate peak or how the sight of her rivals the effect he feels of her coming on his hand. 

He finally kisses her.

—————

Selene feels limbless, relaxing further into the soft leather of the couch as she welcomes Dew’s languid kisses. She’s super sensitive, but he keeps contact with lazy wet pets against her pulsating cunt in the aftermath of her orgasm. 

Dew is fully in love with everything he’s just done and witnessed in her as they continue kissing. And she’s doing that thing again, kissing all her adoration and appreciation into him with a mouth that soon turns ravenous.

He fully accepts it, but eventually he moves his cum slicked hand up, dying for a taste. However, midway to his mouth, he changes course - finding that he'd much rather watch Selene taste herself from his fingers instead. She doesn’t hesitate in taking them in her mouth, beginning to suck in a delicious way that alludes to her hunger for more. For his dick, he assumes - he fucking hopes!

Thats what he imagines at least, and he soon becomes unfoundedly jealous of his own fingers and how they feel in her warm mouth, how they’ve fucked her. Its not enough, and he’s at her mouth in an instant, immediately replacing his fingers with his tongue to delve and explore. He searches for the lingering remnants of her essence on the tongue he now licks and sucks at.

He’s so fucking hungry, so damn into her and her honest display of nasty.

He wants to combust when she takes his hand and puts it between her legs again for another wet pass, and then another. Goddamn, her expression is everything when she wordlessly brings his hand back up between their lips, daring him to go first. But its not a dare at all, and he fervently begins licking his own fingers, indulging in the sweetness he's found on them, and then she’s joining him with licks of her own before their tongues become tangled.

Soon, they’re kissing each other again. 

—————

His mind is reeling, because he just knew she had this in her. So many open displays, and it excites him further at the prospects of everything he hopes to unearth from her and share together. 

They don’t say anything, only kissing and tasting as Dew holds her tighter- wanting to be forever wrapped up in her now. He finds that he’s spiraling with the way she’s keeping him close as well, so in tune with him, so comfortable and welcoming.

And his fascination with her, any way he can be closer to her is anything but subdued when he begins a slow rub against her body. Its a natural instinct, one without much thought as he seeks to relieve some of the building pressure from his own desire at what he’s just witnessed, and whats he’s done and felt and tasted.

Its another subtle friction, tame by so many comparisons and he begins to purr when she turns into him, kissing and touching him everywhere she can reach. 

She’s holding Dew, as tight as she can when she reaches up to touch his face. And looking into his eyes, although she knows he’s adopting a tortuous stance of denying fulfillment of his own physical release, she asks anyway. 

“Sweetheart, what do you need?”

She’s radiant when he gives her a forward reply, honest and true before leaning in to provide another soul-shattering kiss.

“Just you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA: I am actually seeing Dew in one week. This is not a drill and I am NOT okay, so please send help.


	17. an undefined heart.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all the ways in which Dew's beauty can be described on this very special night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the moment, i trust, you've all been waiting for.

_if i asked you now, will you be my prince?_ _will you lay down your armor and be with me, forever? - The Irrepressables_

—————

Time is relative, all but suspended as Selene continues to recover from Dew’s attentions.

She relaxes further into his body for intentional closeness, an unspoken comfort they both seem to be seeking. Its blissful the way they've tangled limbs, with her leg nestled comfortably between both of his. And she's absolutely electrified with renewed life when he places kisses on her lips again before moving down to her neck.

Dew goes slow, keeping her at a low burn as he enjoys the taste of her delicate skin, just beneath the ear - a favorite place for him, and he begins to suck there with intent to mark her.

Its such a ghoul thing, something he’s less compelled by desire to do, than out of a natural instinct to claim ownership of her in this small way. Even still, its highly enjoyable and he can’t help himself from providing so many delicious love bites while she continues to come down from her high.

He licks and nibbles everywhere his lips can reach within the near vicinity, encouraged by her half moan/half giggle as she holds him tighter. She openly receives all of this from him, and everything about the moment is perfect, how it directs them to consider so many realities.

They're like two puzzle pieces finally shifting into place, and although its unspoken, they both know they’ve entered a new paradigm together - one that gives recognition to their future and every dream harbored in their hearts. Its mutually deep, meaningful and although Dew definitely isn’t ready to voice many of these things, unsure if he even knows how to fully define them with words, he feels them.

He feels a great deal when he looks at her, even more when he kisses her and more still when she touches him with returned appreciation, desire. Its an attention he’s always craved and he's currently dying for it, thinking she's the only one that can fulfill him now.

Dew sees only her, feels only her and wants only her as he continues to spread the love from his lips. He finds that his own self-serving press against her body isn’t really cutting it, although he's still making her feel good. He's glad to be providing this for her while somehow managing to keep his own need's at bay.

He really is physically somewhere between combusting and losing his shit, perhaps even dying, and after a few more minutes of pointed attention, it begins to become almost unbearable. The subtle grind against her isn't enough, and although he knows he’s being dramatic with his own thoughts - how he aches in his need for her to touch him, he doesn't care.

He doesn't find Selene to be particularly selfish, understanding that she's needed this far more than him, but now he's feeling a bit neglected. Its such a bratty thing to think, much less voice and he’s quite aware of how it would come off if he told her this, so he doesn't.

However, despite the restraint, he isn't sure how much longer he can remain subdued. Historically, he recalls it being easier when he used to just take what he wanted from the start.

But thats the shift he's recognizing in himself at present, and it temporarily suspends him in the face of growing frustration. With the annoying direction of this thoughts again, and the ever-evolving conflict he's chosen to subject himself to, he decides to take everything out on her neck.

He sinks his teeth into her a bit too deep amongst his many kisses, but he can't find a single fuck to give as the taste of her blood fills his mouth. However, he does remedy the unintended pain by licking at the new wound.

Curiously, he notices that she does not seem alarmed in spite of the infliction, nor does she move away.

—————

The sting at her neck does work to clear the subtle clouding of Selene’s world, knocking her out of her dream state. She’s still floating, but more aware of Dew, his physicality, as she continues to hold him in her arms.

He's been so attentive, a fact she's quick to recognize along with how good he's made her feel. And she also notes how fucking good HE feels - his hands, his mouth, that delicious hardness against her leg. He’s absolutely everything and she's inclined to always believe this as the onset of guilt begins to set in at how one-sided all the attention has been.

Although she had asked, he’d been cryptic in response to his needs earlier and then all consideration had fallen away when he started touching her in all those perfect places. A giver by nature, Selene truly recognizes the state of him now with growing clarity, how he had disrupted his body's own demands in what she felt was a monumental display of patience.

She's feels her adoration of him growing to immeasurable heights in her realization of so many things, like how hard he’s actually been trying to keep it together.

Precious Dew.

She feels the tension of him when she moves her hands over his shoulders and arms again, and although she can't see his eyes, she imagines they're pained.

It resolves her to not overthink the next move, knowing she doesn’t need permission, only that she needs to be confident in her approach to touch him where he needs it most. And she’s emboldened by her own need to know this part of him, to feel and make him feel just as good.

Her hand begins it's descent.

—————

Dew is still at her neck, intent to bury his frustration there when he feels Selene lower her hand between their bodies.

He's silently thanking Satan when she grabs a handful of him through his jeans, causing him to abandon the kiss. He pulls back far enough so that they’re looking at each other again, and he's so glad he has because she’s a fucking vixen.

Its all so clear, and his heart rate triples when she leans into him to kiss his mouth with the most sultry inquiry against his lips.

"Mmm, do you like that babe?"

He can't even respond, so wrapped up in his relief to be touched like this, and she's the absolute hottest bitch as she continues the tortuous squeeze and release on him.

She's got that look about her, one that Dew sees through lust filled vision - how it translates into hunger, and he's so welcoming to the playful licks she introduces at his lips and chin.

Its a divine satisfaction for Dew when she begins caressing him through the fabric with a hard rub, so impressed by what she’s feeling. He's near explosion as she builds the intensity of a burning friction between his legs, whispering to him of how she can't wait to surround his cock and feel him inside her.

And it just gets better when she moves to kiss along his jaw, her tongue intent to reach the skin the lies just beneath the edges of his mask. It leaves him in such a state, and he momentarily thinks to just rip the fucking thing off, but then he loses all thought when her mouth comes back to his with an impactful invasion of tongue.

It almost chokes him, all the lusty love and hotness she's exhibiting - so much passion and fearlessness. It all feels so damn good, but Dew knows he's just sentencing himself to death with all the teasing, as he has no real intention of spilling in his own jeans.

Even still, he finds himself relaxing into the cushions beneath them, allowing his eyes to drift shut.

He lies back in surrender to the sensations of Selene’s touch for a few more hot moments, leaving her completely enraptured by his beauty and the way he’s closed his eyes, but left his mouth partially open.

Its so endearing, so honest.

She wants to kiss him again, lick against those perfect lips with a caress against his teeth and those lovely fangs of his, and she contemplates it, but Dew's increased laborious breath does make Selene rethink her course. She's enamored as she studies him and the way he's fallen into a beautiful silence, save for his low pants as she continues stroking him firm and slow.

She knows Dew can’t hold out much longer, and its forever a wonder that he has up until this point. Besides thats, the evidence is clear by indication of his cock, rigid as fuck pressing against her hand and straining so tight against his pants now.

He needs more, she's aware of this as she continues touching him for several sweet minutes before a greater force possesses her to redirect her touch. She has to do this, and he doesn't stop her when her fingers make their way to his zipper, pulling it down quickly so that her hand can slip inside.

She finds him so hard and hot as fuck. Goddamn. 

Dew himself, is weightless then, fevered by the firm pulls she's started up on him as she looks on with lustful eyes. And he's unsure of why he ever thought he was going to last amid all her lovely touches, current attentions of gold. But now he knows his resistance is futile. His body knows what it wants and it won't stop until it's sought release.

Fleetingly, Dew begins to question his sanity, trying to understand whats compelled him to resist this, everything that Selene is wanting to provide in return. He knows that his previous intent to NOT come didn't stem from pride or some misguided idea that he was somehow undeserving of this.

Its a great mystery, but its one he's resolved to release and he does so now, finding the philosophy completely unnecessary to deconstruct. Even despite the small measure of control he feels he's lost, it becomes irrelevant for him, because now he wants more than anything to come in Selene's hard grip, all over those long elegant fingers.

And fuck if he isn't going to, so he shuts his eyes once again, and lets it happen.

—————

Its welcoming for Selene to witness Dew loosening with vulnerability. The way she feels when she hears him moan is indescribable, and she's silently dying over how he’s bitten down on his bottom lip in full concentrated rapture because its just that damn amazing for him.

His face is mere inches from hers when she eventually leans down to kiss his cheek, once again finding the metallic surface of his mask hot against her lips. And it feels impossibly scalding when she finds his ear to whisper words meant to trigger him further, kissing against him there.

"You're so fucking hot Dew. I want you to come in my hand, all over my fingers, baby."

She pulls back to look at him, spellbound by everything he is and her heart feels heavy. The only thing her brain truly processes when she finds that his eyes are shut tight again, and at the start of his lifting hips and the rushing wet warmth on her fingers when he comes is -

a d o r e .

Its so good to watch, to see the everlasting beauty of him as he comes undone, unashamedly so before her eyes. For her, its almost as good as being on the receiving end of all the attention. And she just really fucking gets it now.

From the shift in perspective, she believes she could watch him like this for the rest of her life, how he gets lost in himself as the pleasure overtakes him.

She can't look away in her newfound addiction as the provider.

It grows by the second, and she continues to admire her progress as she spreads kisses along his mask. She does everything to remain close, demonstrating all the affection she feels.

But that adoration is soon interrupted when Dew eventually opens his eyes, startling her once again with their blue brilliance. Unexpectedly, he returns his fingers to her cunt as his lips also return to press against hers with crushing force.

She thinks to damn him, taking her breath again through his fervent kisses and without her permission. But theres no inkling of disappointment when Dew initiates the sexiest moment of her life and they begin to simultaneously fuck each other with respective touch.

The moment reels them back towards their desire, and they’re the very nature of sexuality in the deepening discovery.

The pleasure begins to build again.

—————

Dew is a quick study, finding that he's learning Selene very well as he pulls another orgasm from her effortlessly.

He connects with the sights and sounds she elicits in her throes, and he's unstable over her body, how she grinds into his touch to also connect so many nerves in order to get herself off again.

He can't get over the beauty of her, how explosive she is and he gives no indication of disappointment when she abandons her hold on him.

For Dew, he feels no great loss over the absence of her touch, finding that his needs have become easily overridden by his greater demand to give her everything she wants.

His temporary appeasement, stemmed from a simple relief to no longer be bursting at the seams, does help to subdue him in the physical sense. But besides that, seeing Selene lose control of her body through the gift he's providing also does so fucking much for him.

Dew wants to be her world.

He's hooked, and its a very new feeling to be wanted, needed in this way - in so many ways. And its an even greater gain when she does eventually remove her wet hand from inside his jeans to place instead over the hand he still has between her thighs.

For added pressure, she squeezes and pulls him further into her, continuing to fuck his hand and take what she needs as she summons her climax. Odd as it may be, he's happy to be used, living for the familiar wet warmth that encompasses his fingers as she clenches around them.

—————

In the midst of her pleasure, Selene's aware of this new selfless display from Dew. She couldn't begin to thank him with words, but she hopes to convey so much with her eyes.

She's in love with the way they've locked each other in a stare, the way their fingers continue to tangle and glide together against her - wet with both their desire now. And there’s so much of it that she can see in his eyes too - desire, and she’s soon drowning in them again, anchored only by the weight of his body half on her and that look of devilish enchantment that he wears.

Christ, its a beautiful moment and he's absolutely stunning to her.

She begs for his kiss then, vocalizing it unashamedly as Dew slowly removes his hand from her pulsing core to absently begin rubbing the wetness from his fingers against her inner thighs. He continues with slow circles on her skin, feeling the moisture soon cool and dry from the air of the room.

She allows the touch, all that he's doing and she's somewhat grateful he's strayed from her sensitivity - feeling that further contact might have set her on fire. But they're tender again anyway, and she moves her own fingers to his lips then in a silent demand to taste them. 

Of course Dew doesn't need convincing, and he's so damn hungry as he takes them in his mouth, sucking and licking at their mixed essence. Its fucking delicious - a newfound favorite taste for him and he gives a contented sigh when the flavor is gone, and she removes them from his mouth.

He's such a nasty fuck and he surmises she's aware of this now with staggering certainty. So his heart sores further when she wraps her freed hand around his nape again, urging him to come into her and close the space.

"Let me taste that tongue, Dew."

He does, kissing her again, finally.

Its all so carnal and she swears his eyes are impossibly dark when he opens them again, finding his pupils blown to almost black as they hold each other in silence, allowing the minutes to pass. He's a sight with lips beautifully swollen, just as hers are from their thorough kissing, and they’re both still completely turned on, ridiculously so.

—————

The moon wanes, intensifying the glow of the study and Selene knows its just impossible now for them not to move forward.

She begins kissing Dew again, pulling into him with wandering hands that leave mini explosions down his spine as her fingers follow the beautiful curve of his back. She wants more, just as well as he does.

Its obvious.

But while he senses and loves her contemplation of this - all the willingness he sees in her, now devoid of fear and without indication of shyness, it isn’t exactly how he wants it for them.

In fact, Dew is unsure if his restraint actually stems from his inhuman stamina or the fact that he’s just borderline masochistic, but he can't allow her to continue.

He grabs her chin then, forcing her to still her advancing touch onto the more intimate placement on his ass. And its a bit harrowing for him to stop, knowing that she was just about to brush those dainty fingers against his tail, but alas, he forces her to stop and look at him.

“Not here.”

Its a simple statement, and he whispers it to her with less pain than he actually feels.

The words leave her unmoving, which allows him to disentangle from her with relative ease, and he quickly gets to his feet. Immediately, he misses her and he wills his body to calm the fuck down as he re-zips his jeans, finding thats he's already become hard again from their recent closeness.

Fuck, he wants this too, wants her so bad, but theres just no fucking way he’s having sex for the first time with her in Copia’s study.

He feels the occasion to be a monumental one, which is possibly the most traditional ideal he's ever harbored. But still, he wants it to be perfect for her and that, for him, entails a specific level of privacy, as well as the comforts of an intimate setting - ideally his bedroom.

At least for their first time, anyway. Of course, he’s already thought of the endless locations and ways they will fuck, all the ideas he has in mind for them, but not tonight.

In fact, it hits Dew like a ton of bricks as he contemplates how quickly and naturally they’ve come to this moment. It seems so fast, yet also like an eternity, especially for him, but the payoff is grand and he's unbothered by the time now, confident that he's finally going to be rewarded for his patience. 

The fire in Selene is rewarding enough when he looks to her, knowing she feels the same and that they've finally arrived at their moment. It does something to his heart and his head, seeing his own desire reflected in her dark eyes.

He's never felt so genuinely wanted, but more than that, needed.

He doesn't say anything, only reaching out to offer his hand to pull her up to him, then.

She takes it willingly, without hesitation as she moves from the couch, and together they hastily straighten the room, turning off the lights behind them.

—————

Although unspoken, it's known where they are going as soon her and Dew are on the other side of the door and he's securely locked the study to be as it was before.

He reaches for Selene’s hand again as they make their way back across the estate, finding that they can’t get to the south wing fast enough and it soon becomes impossible for them to remain linear towards their destination.

They pull each other along, and to neither one's surprise, their journey is continuously met with interruption.

Their laughter begins to echo throughout the empty halls, livening the abbey with colorful sound as they touch and tease each other endlessly between pushed bodies against Corinthian columns and fiery kisses, wandering hands and Dew's hot tongue.

—————

Its a time later when they eventually reach the final corridor, and the row of familiar doors is a welcome sight for them, although Dew’s bedroom is the furthest away. To him, it actually seems too long a distance between there and where they currently stand to wait for another kiss.

He's becoming insatiable, needing to make up for lost time and capitalize on every moment alone with Selene. And its just clockwork now, a welcomed press against her body when he entraps her once again with his own as he moves her against Rain’s bedroom door.

He thanks Satan and all the bloody stars now that she kisses him back with such feverish intent and an unending ardor - so matched to his own.

He's positively purring with awareness of the way her heart begins to race again from the onslaught of all his fucking attention and he can literally smell the heat of her sex.

It kills him in the best way to know she values his treatment, an endless appreciation for her. And he has all the proof he needs of this.

It speaks volumes the way she holds onto him with her strategic pull to always have him close now, whether it be by a sturdy grip on his suspenders or a specified pull at his tie.  
  
Both approaches really drive him wild in demonstration of her own claim.

He's never wanted to be had so intensely. 

—————

Dew is voluntarily drowning in how good all this is - how soft she feels, how sweet she tastes, and how fucking hot she’s become.

And while he's unsure what compels him towards such a ridiculously romantic gesture, other than a subtle growing impatience to get her to his bed now, he sweeps her up into his arms then, without warning.

The swift movement elicits a very audible yelp from Selene, so clearly taken off guard by the unintentional fairytale territory that she now finds herself in with Dew.

She’s never had this before, and its even more surprising that he should be the one to initiate such a chivalric move.

As unsettling as it is to not have her feet on the ground, she really fucking adores him for doing this, finding the move to be an additional layer to his complexity. And although less meaningful, her worry works to press her to a level of discomfort in a personal assumption that she might actually be a strain for Dew.

It makes her feel self conscious, because the rational part of her knows he’s not built in the literal “sweep a girl off her feet” way. And it reinstates a hyperawareness, her own insecurity that she’s probably too fucking heavy for him to actually carry.

And Selene alludes to this when she haphazardly suggests he put her back down, helping neither one of them when she begins to squirm within his tight hold.

She's insistent on her capability to walk, but Dew isn’t hearing any of it - finding it to be nonsensical bullshit.

Truly, he's not about to let her ruin the moment for either one of them, and he’s actually a bit offended that she hasn’t fully realized the strength of him or given more respectful consideration to her own gorgeous body.

He finds her perfect, hoping she will accept this truth at some point and begin to fully appreciate all the beauty that he sees in her, that any sane person would.

He's determined to make it so and he has his ideas of how...

But more pressing on his pride is the indirect questioning of his physical capabilities, and it’s something he kinda can't get over.

He’s a fucking demon, for Satan’s sake, and he'd really like to proceed with having his damn Prince Charming moment, thinking it entirely possible if only Selene would shut her fucking mouth for two seconds. 

He interrupts her then, past listening to what she has to say so that he can provide some realities of his own. 

“Please shut up. I’ve carried you numerous times, you just don’t remember.”

He hopes his words will work to soothe her in the knowing when he tells her this, although he's also aware that his execution is faulty at times when he's trying to be caring.

Its something he's still working on, but either way, he knows its effective when he feels her begin to relax, clearly resolved to enjoy the ride on his assurance that carrying her is in no way a burden for him.

And he means it.

With trust instilled, Selene clings tighter to Dew with her arms around his neck and she goes in to kiss the side of his mask then, the only place her lips can currently reach. She thanks him for this, so damn full of adoration, enchanted.

She's feels fucking in love, she knows she is - certain of it.

—————

They’re about halfway to his room, with Dew enjoying the low hum she's providing so close to his ear, when her dangling feet hit against one of the low hung fixtures in the hallway.

The unintended impact to her bare feet and the resulting “fuck! that hurt” startles them both, threatening to throw him off balance and for a second they both fear the fall.

Luckily he’s quick to stabilize his stance, righting himself as he holds onto Selene’s body with a reinforced grip.

They take a moment to breathe then, with Selene resting her forehead against his when Dew looks at her.

Unexpectedly, they begin laughing in unison over the absurdity of the occurrence, all so comical now that the threat has passed. 

And he's teasing in his exasperation as he shakes his head, considering Selene while she continues to laugh uncontrolled in his arms.

"What am I going to do with you?"

The question is rhetorical, but she answers anyway.

“You can put me down now, sweetheart. Seriously.”

Of course he doesn't, giving a stubborn “No” as he resumes his pace, but he’s smiling big and gorgeous now.

And he feels warm too, incredibly aware of his own blush over her calling him sweetheart for the second time, although she can't see it.

While he’s not certain how accurate a statement it is, or that he deserves such an endearing reference, he loves it.

He muses the facts, how nobody ever dared say things like this to him before, and likely never felt it a relevant consideration to do so where he was concerned.

Dew knows he’s usually anything other than sweet, but really - he'd never had the opportunity or felt such a desire to exhibit this side of himself.

Until now, that is.

And he’s bringing a new warmth to her, feeling it within his hands as he continues to hold her.

Its a tender emotion, some elusive extension beyond physical desire that he's providing now and he’s also receiving it back from her.

A phenomenon.

It works to mysteriously lighten his eyes in a startling way thats very rare and of which very few have seen.

He feels it happen then, a temporary clouding of vision as they begin to transform in color from an icy blue to warm amber.

—————

Selene bears witness to this too, and it makes her forget all train of thought, forget to breathe once again.

Everything about him is impossible, and her brain so often challenges prior beliefs now - all the rationalization of what she had known as truth. 

Until now.

Most of it has vastly faded, and she realizes Dew is at the forefront of many of her new ideals. Without trying, he's opening her mind and her world to consider any possibility- all of them.

She can't stop herself from voicing what she's thinking, looking at him with such clarity and all the closeness she could dream of as she remains in his arms.

”Dew, you are magic."

And she has to kiss him again, sealing her statement with a press against his lips. Its non-debatable, and she's entirely bewitched afterwards, when she looks into his eyes again. 

She is intent to get lost in the stunning new color of them, how bright they are in their livened state, narrowed as he stares back at her.

The newness is unsettling, but more so is their beauty - how it makes her feel so unworthy to behold them.

But despite that fleeting notion, Selene realizes how relaxed he actually is. And it moves her to a sincere happiness, knowing she's with the real Dew - that version so few, if anyone, will ever know.

She feels honored, so very lucky as she considers all of this, thinking of the shared moments they’ve had already.

Moments just like this, where he’s making her forget all her past hurts and those hard losses that insist on haunting her. At the least, he's lessening their impact as he works to replace them with his own love, something otherworldly, rare and beautiful.

She doesn’t even know if he’s aware of how giving and protective he is, how caring. It all compels her towards a greater love, something she's never had.

He means so much to her.

—————

When they finally come to Dew's bedroom door, she reaches down for the handle to open it - not taking the risk or trusting Dew with this task on the off chance he'll drop her on her ass. It would be a shame after they’ve come so far. Its the best insurance Selene can offer herself.

He allows this, although he's impatient for the door to open before walking into the dark room.

Once on the other side, Dew kicks the door shut, and their lust begins to resurface at a rapid pace while Selene remains in his arms. They consider each other for only a passing moment before he's in motion again, carrying her across the room.

Its romantic as fuck, but then he unceremoniously tosses her onto the bed without forewarning.

She isn't upset. Its comical, cute - somehow entirely Dew when she thinks on all his complexities, how he's the moodiest and most chaotic person (demon?) she's ever met. 

He gives a devilish look her way, It earns him the evil eye in return, although Selene's laughing as she moves to the edge of the bed, waiting for him.

She watches as he ignites the fireplace, lighting various candles with a pointed flick of his wrist and quick finger snaps. He’s fucking magic, and she'd meant it when she'd told him as much, and she feels it now too.

The ambience of the room he’s created begins to illuminate the space with an inviting glow, and its fast becoming her new favorite place.

His room...Theirs.

She can't imagine anywhere else she'd rather be as she becomes transfixed by the comforting warmth that moves to envelope her. And she's relaxed while she continues to admire Dew- his silhouette and how it moves, dancing across the floor amid the shadows and the light.

Then he’s there, silent as he kneels before her to take her feet in his hands. Everything begins to move in slow motion.

—————

Selene had forgotten the faint tenderness of them, how she'd hit that fucking silver fixture with a clang just minutes ago. And she can see now, just as well as Dew can that both of them bear the faint markings of a subtle injury.

She’s not incredibly bothered by this, having admittedly been through far worse. But Dew seems to be concerned, and she glimpses his faint look of melancholy.

He lovingly begins to rub them with all his attention, intent to heal by way touch and something more- a primitive black magic, as he glides his fingers over her skin.

He removes the hurt effortlessly, through a literal display of witchcraft and she barely hears his whisper when he apologizes for his carelessness in the matter. He blames himself.

"I don't ever want to see you hurt, never again."

He doesn't look at her when he says this, but it still leaves her melting. And she hears the misguided remorse behind his words, she feels how it exudes from Dew although he's really not to blame for any of it.

She wants to console him then, but she refrains from speaking out as he lays his focus on her legs. She's happy to provide the distraction, still reeling from the sweetness of him.

Dew thinks them so sexy, beautiful as he continues to run his hands over her limbs to revive them, erasing the scapes and bruises. It takes only seconds, and he's satisfied with his work, but it hits him hard as he's reminded of all she's endured - of how honestly broken she was when he'd found her. 

The sobering recollection leaves him protective of her again, and he fiercely wants to erase all the despair and sadness too. She didn't deserve the atrocities, and thinking on it makes his heart want to break.

It turns him into a wreck, desperate to give her so much, fill her with everything good and all of him. Its such a profound notion and he lets the intuition guide him then as he leans in to kiss open mouthed upon her limbs with care.

He does this with great adoration, everything so apparent by his gentle squeezes, the patience - even the way he's allowed his eyes to shut again so he can revel in the feel of her against his lips. It pulls him deeply, on such an emotional level, but then he needs more, and its a natural progression when Dew begins running his warm hands further up her legs, eventually finding her thighs.

He keeps going, lifting his head to look at her again as his touch reaches beneath her dress. He goes on, and at her hips, he grips her underwear with intent to pull them off with an intentional tug.

“Lift your hips, baby.”

—————

Unholy shit - he sounds so fucking sexy, those words coming off his lips, everything. And she's burned by the hot endearment he's aimed at her.

It leaves her impossibly turned on, and while she should have anticipated as much from him, because everything he does sets her on fire, the reality of the moment startles her.

The way his voice is low, coming onto her sultry as hell, is beyond words. And its all beyond thought for her at the start of him beginning to pull the underwear from her without rush. Its the sweetest torture, and she does wonder if Dew is aware of what he’s doing to her, surely yes- as he continues on, achingly slow. 

Selene isn’t prepared once he has them removed, and how he brings them up to his face to inhale her scent from the fabric in an indulgent way. It burns her cheeks into a scarlet blush.

Its too much, and she has to kiss her darling, naughty boy.

She’s uncontrolled when she reaches out, grabbing the garment from him to toss aside before taking his hands in her own.

With a firm pull, she initiates physical contact again, and Dew comes easily enough- rising on his knees as he moves between her open thighs.

They’re eye level again, immediate with their desire to kiss deeply and she reaches her arms around to hold him tight as they get lost. In between breaths, she voices what she feels, providing great impact with her words as she lays scratches to his back, eventually moving to grab and hold his ass.

"I want you so fucking much."

And Dew acquiesces her sentiment with a sharp "same", before returning to her lips with a piercing kiss.

—————

Selene's touch is exploratory along his body, and its a heady combination with his willing mouth - how he provides everything she's demanding in her open display of need. Its enough to give Dew pause to smile, falling much deeper into...something...with the gorgeous woman in his arms.

He doesn't reflect long on this, quickly resuming his actions as he moves his mouth to kiss along her jaw, mapping out the angle. She's perfection, he'll always reel from just how much he thinks so and he begins to trace his tongue along the shell of her ear, hoping to elicit that body shudder from her that he's craving.

He does, loving her natural reaction and his hands grip at her thighs again with the same intent that he feels where she's still holding him.

They feel everywhere they can, and then its another sweet kiss that feeds them both when she moves back towards his lips. 

Its forever drugging and they spiral in the midst of all their desire. But then Dew feels the subtle touch of her fingers on his chest- how they give a soft tug at his suspenders, and he knows its indication that she’s ready to advance. He can’t complain, he’s ready as well, so he draws back from Selene's mouth, enough for her to reach up and begin sliding them off his shoulders.

She gives him a shy smile when she meets his eyes, knowing he's studying her in her renewed boldness. Of course the shyness is unfounded, and he kisses it from her as he moves in again to hold her face.

"Keep going."

He hopes to instill all his desire for her with his touch, his words and the utter look of sincerity he wears. He's burning for her, thinking its become quite obvious.

Dew thinks she should know this by now, along with his wish for them to go further- all the way, because he really can’t hold out much longer. Even still, he needs her to know that she’s the one- everything to him.

He communicates all of this in the way he knows best, through touch and taste as his tongue invades her mouth so many times. And he feels a new fire within him when she eventually reaches out, blindly finding the waistband of his jeans in the midst of their wild kiss.

She follows it with a pull on his shirt, one of impatience and signifying her decision that his clothes must come off. Its all the convincing he needs.

Dew has never been one to shy away from getting undressed, especially for others in the appropriate setting, but fuck- he’s so proud of her for this!

—————

Selene is ready to see Dew.

She senses his anticipation as well, and she's barely able to contain herself when she makes her first contact with his naked skin. Her fingers brush under his shirt, past the second layer that she's almost forgotten about, feeling the warmth of his smooth abdomen. It hits electric, bringing back the reality of his existence - all the flesh and blood of him, although the fact remains that he's inhuman.

She can’t seem to leave his mouth, although her fingers fumble to get his shirt off as they begin to blindly play again, this time at the buttons. But Dew soon re-establishes the urgency, feeling it too as his own patience wanes. He needs her touch, finding that he actually can’t wait either, so he effectively pulls away from her lips to rip his shirt open.

"Fuck it."

He can't be bothered as the remaining buttons hit the floor with a soft clatter. He has several shirts just like this one, so he's unaffected by the state he's leaving it in, as he shakes out of it.

And while he'd really have preferred that she do the undressing, he can't be bothered now, as he hastily pulls his undershirt- the one meant to help regulate his body temperature, off as well. He tosses it aside, down to the floor where it rejoins their other clothing and all those severed buttons.

The coolness of the room hits his skin and it feels incredible, coming in a rush, but there is also a growing concern building within him as he becomes acutely aware that Selene has stopped moving. And while Dew isn't typically prone to being self conscious, he realizes that he can't read her at the moment and its bringing some insecurity back to the surface. 

Dew loathes the feeling, just as much as he hates the idea of seeking approval, but he needs this acceptance from her. And for a brief second, he fears that he's been misguided in his thoughts, his pride.

Notions begin to float in his mind and he comes to the realization that its entirely possible for Selene to be having second thoughts about what they're doing, who they are together, what he is...

It soon becomes unbearable, and he has to know what she's thinking because he's tired of overthinking and in the process, mentally exhausting himself beyond all necessary limit. He demands it of her then, rough when he moves her out of her silent reverie with a snap in his voice.

Its not nice, but he doesn't care. 

"Can't you say something?!!"

Despite his tone, and all the emotion it holds, she doesn't respond.

—————

Selene can't find the fucking words as her mind continues to comprehend the vision before her. 

This ghoul is utterly stunning.

Its a fact, the only one she can process and fuck if she can’t literally feel the rushing flood between her legs again as she takes her visual fill of his chest, shoulders, arms, all of it into her sight. She’s transfixed on the beauty, and she knows she has to feel him- all that she's seeing.

Her hands move of their own accord then, reaching up to touch Dew's bare shoulders.

She finds that like his hands and his mouth- all the limited places she's since familiarized herself with, these parts of him are warm as well, more so.

Her fingers continue to glide, moving to speak for what she can't convey with words as she touches all the newness. And Holy fuck, he's so dreamy despite the fact that he's currently fuming, flustered in his vulnerable frustration.

Of course he is unlike anything she’s ever beheld and she sighs so hard, outwardly, so that he hears it too. She's careful not to internalize her appreciation, knowing that Dew needs to feel this from her, become aware with certainty of what she really thinks.

Beautiful, he’s just too beautiful, absolutely perfect to her. Its still a wonder that he's real, much less before her, with her. 

She marvels at his naked chest, all the gorgeous darkness and how sleek his body is with it's flecks of silver and gold in what she assumes is a ghoul’s equivalent to freckles.

It literally steals her breath to be in witness of such a rare constellation of beauty, all the markings that embellish his skin. All so graceful in composition, but theres an element of youth to it too - masculine, certainly, but in a mythical way that no human body could ever be and where age is only fleeting in elusive nature.

He goes without comparison. Dew is timeless- completely undefined in his own rarity.

Its a fact.

He's so fucking otherworldly and she wants to belong to him, desperately so. Her desire for this is at a new high, although she doesn’t know how she’s ever going to survive this - being with him. And she can't even begin to imagine seeing his true face, those features she knows so few have beheld and that must be incredibly gorgeous.

The thought alone overwhelms her, because his body alone is already killing her.

He’s so well proportioned, and she marvels at the sinewy power of him as she appreciates the magnificence of his male beauty, the physicality- all corded veins and elegant musculature, trim waist and long limbed with striking angles.

And DEW’S FUCKING PIERCED NIPPLES.

Being ever the wild card, he doesn't seize to amaze her and yet, its somehow entirely unexpected. But she's come to realize that he’s just full of surprises, and its so fucking hot seeing this physical part of him, loving how his nipples are adorned with silver rings.

This hot fucker.

She imagines the temporary pain of them, how he probably enjoyed getting them pierced. And she hopes he's ready for her too, because she does fully intend to play with them, teasing endlessly with pulls from her fingers and mouth, licks and bites.

He's such an influence and fuck her! she wants that bad, thinking about it as she skims her fingertips along them with a feather touch.

The contact is so light, building the sensations as she continues her hands along his bare chest, seeing the way the skin begins to prickle. It feels good, it has to and she's impressed that he's remained so incredibly still, especially when she graces more of his body with caresses.

Selene takes her time tracing the outline of his ribs, feeling the hard bone as it surfaces more prominently with every deep inhale he takes. He’s so damn fit, and she extends the moment by lingering, watching as her hand connects the sensation of touch onto the body before her with what she sees.

She’s never felt this before, never known the nature of wanting someone like this, needing to be with them so intensely.

Dew has changed everything.

—————

He remains quiet, save for his thunderous heart, which can be heard in his own ears, so he imagines she’s aware of it too. But he's very much enjoying her touch, and everything that her stare entails - how it communicates so much appreciation and an endless desire for him.

He know’s its true now, without a doubt and its eased him to a great extent.

Confirmed, undeniable- he knows Selene truly wants him and despite his narcissistic qualities in this regard, her honest admiration really does seek to move him. It pulls at so many new emotional chords for him, especially in light of his brief bout of insecurity just minutes prior.

It humbles him in an unexpected way as he continues to watch her, how she looks at him. And he knows she's experiencing all the things he does when he looks at her too. And because he thinks her absolute perfection, seeing the reciprocation of what he feels for her within her own eyes leaves him with so many thoughts.

He hopes he's made his desire as evident as her's seems to be, because its speaking volumes to him right now, despite the silence.

It all works mysteriously to make his heart swell, at least thats the sensation he's experiencing currently. But his dick is doing something similarly - just a fact as he feels the twitch and how his jeans have become incredibly imprisoning again.

He thinks maybe they should move this along...

He licks his top lip then, leaning closer into her with that trademark head tilt to draw her attention, seeking to interrupt her thoughts again- nicer now than he had been before. 

His hands find their way back to the tops of her thighs, and they remain braced there as he leans into her. He craves the taste of those lips again, something to settle his growing hunger, but Selene unexpectedly stops his advancement with a firm touch against his heart.

He doesn’t understand.

The confusion translates in his eyes, still amber in color as they narrow and she can see the indication of a furrowed brow above them.

She thinks he's probably seeing red now, her Darling Dew.

Selene knows he couldn’t possibly understand how incredibly hot she is over the sight of him, or how much courage its actually taken for her to explore him, despite her trepidation. She's overridden so much of it for the greater cause- her desire, and she wants to be open, as willing as she feels, everything Dew deserves.

The splendor of his body is absolutely drugging to her and now that she's seen it, felt it, she's silently vowed to kiss it so sooo many times before the night is over.

She just can’t let him interrupt her moment of awe, because she isn't done.

Its a witnessing of so many firsts for them, an exceptional moment in their history, but he's impatient as he attempts to kiss her again. And its actually ridiculous how he's using his tongue now in his attempt to reach her, trying to get as close as possible to her mouth with his own.

She loves it, but it can wait. 

He's unsuccessful, growling as she wards him off again, with greater resistance this time against his physical advancement. Its necessary now for her to provide explanation.

“Dew, let me see you.”

What she means to imply by this is the allowance of a few more moments to discover him, process it and all she's never felt until now. But its clearly misinterpreted, and she's taken off guard when he abruptly moves to his feet then to stand before her. 

He's in motion again, intent now on removing his jeans at what he thinks is her command. And while she’s not complaining- she loves that he’s taken her words so literal and is so willing to completely undress for her, she feels compelled to accelerate her own plans.

Even still, she wants to do this her way and she needs him to cooperate, hoping he will...

She reaches out, putting her hands over his to still his fingers. It immediately sets him off, and really, she can't blame him. She's aware of the perception, all the mixed signals he’s receiving and she sees how its made him antsy again, beyond detailed frustration.

He throws his hands up in exasperation. Its so bitchy, exaggerated and all pointed towards her.

"Goddammit, I don't know what the fuck you want! What are we even doing?!!”

—————

She slaps his hands out of her face then, intent on ignoring his little bitch outburst as she takes control again with a firm pull at the waist of Dew's jeans to get him closer. It's effective, shutting him up right away as his dick comes into close proximity of her face.

She has his attention, moved to silence by the strength of her glare as he gets consumed in lust again.

He gives in and Selene lifts a brow at him in response to his sudden loss for words as she begins unbuttoning his jeans. She executes the task with more control than her earlier attempts at his shirt, but she feels less rushed now that she can see what she's doing and he isn't occupying her lips.

She's just taken hold of the zipper when he reaches down, intending to help unzip them in a renewed haste. Its cute, despite being annoying- he's killing her vibe, ruining her plans as he turns greedy. And its becoming very apparent to her that he's unaccustomed to having someone else make the calls, set the tone and pace. 

“Dew, fucking stop. I’m going to kill you. Let me do this!”

She puts him in his place again with a stern look, slapping his hands away and she's dead serious in her intentions.

Fucking impatient ghoul.

—————

She has him unzipped soon enough, providing some relief for his cock with the additional space newly afforded. It must have helped, because she can hear his steady breathing again, measured now instead of haphazard with huffing.

She leans in then to press kisses on the newly exposed skin in front of her face, feeling the muscles bunch under her lips as she drags them along his lower torso. She wants to lick and bite at him, growing more wild in her want of this, but then her attention is interrupted by another feature. 

She can perfectly see the outline of him through the fabric of his remaining clothing, basically feel him as he was earlier when she held him in her hand.

It leaves her so wet, having the wonderful view of his crotch directly in her face and its necessary for her to touch him there, as she moves to give another hard rub, that teasing squeeze she's found that he enjoys so much.

They're ignited.

She’s assured of her effectiveness by way of the sharp intake of breath she hears from above her. Its empowering to have this effect, and she's getting hooked on how rewarding it is being the one to elicit such responses from Dew.

They reinforce her decision to advance, as she leans closer to lay the side of her face against his bulge, beginning a loving rub against him. And if she could purr like him, she would be. 

He's so damn hot and so fucking hard.

And she knows where she wants to go from here, eventually turning her head to fully kiss on him at the start of his fingers gliding into her hair. It tingles, amazing for her as he gathers it in his hands to hold, but Dew doesn’t guide her- only needing something to grip onto as a means to keep him tethered to reality.

For him, its clear that she’s undoubtedly invested, but he's still completely surprised by this move. Who does this? He loves it, how she lingers at the hottest part of him while maintaining control, patience and all with a look of love. Fuck him!

He begins a lazy massage on her scalp, knowing it must feel good- he misses that for himself.

His personal loss is fleeting, however, as he reinstates his hold on her hair, although tendrils still manage to fall from his fingertips, naturally framing the most gorgeous face he's ever known.

A face thats indirectly kissing him with utmost intimacy. He's crazy over it, reassured by her actions- that she loves this and wants it too. Wants him, too. 

Dew has never felt such relief.

—————

Selene considers the stunning fucker before her as she uncovers more skin.

Pulling his jeans further down his hips, she's intent to take his underwear along with them and get him fully undressed.

But it soon becomes a challenge- this damn ghoul and his inclination towards tight clothes. She’s so grateful for it though in consideration of how well he wears everything.

They both laugh in disruption of their desire as they're compelled to work together to get Dew out of his jeans- both so intent now. And Selene is closer, still seated at the edge of the bed and literally able to smell the pure sex of him.

Its an intoxicating scent.

She's dying to taste him there, and she's noticed that he’s being a darling again- likely on his best behavior so that this becomes a reality for him too.

He's considerate with his assistance, taking his cock in hand as she pulls his remaining clothes far enough down his legs for him to eventually kick out of them.

—————

Selene really couldn't have prepared herself to see Dew the way he is now- stood nude before her.

He gives no indication of timidness, as if its the most natural thing for him to be holding himself with a thumb idly rubbing precum over the head of his dick, waiting for her to decide where they go from here.

Even the subtle swing of his tail behind him alludes to an unspoken inquiry and he draws nearer to her once again, although he says nothing.

She gives pause, reaching out to scratch her nails down the backs of his thighs to convey a deep satisfaction for what she sees, and its an everlasting hunger in her eyes when she looks up at him.

Her hands keep contact on his skin, and with her stinging touch, Dew responds with a knowing smile. He enjoys the subtle clawing, unhindered as he continues to study her face and memorize her touch on his body while he continues to slowly stroke himself.

Selene can't look away from him, his body and then those eyes of his. The connection is strong, so damn good- sustainable, but Dew makes it impossibly hotter, leveling up the intimacy when he reaches his other hand out to touch her face.

With it, he caresses her gently, full of growing adoration as his fingers skim the elegant bone structure that transfixes him. Then he focuses his attention on her lips, giving consideration to how badly he wants all this- every single fucking thing he'd envisioned when he'd fantasized about her out in the garden.

He wants those lips around his cock, and he knows he could have this dream realized. It would be so easy to initiate this now, but he wants her even more - anything she’s willing to give, really.

And he finds he's entirely curious of what she will do, so he waits, bestowing her with the great responsibility of decision.

—————

This is love for Selene.

She recalls Dew's attentiveness in Copia’s study- how he'd demanded nothing in return, although his needs were so apparent.

It means something, so much! and she knows she has to make this good for him. She absolutely wants to, only hoping that it measures up to his expectations or what he's at least used to.

But more than that, she wants to give him what he deserves, more than he's ever had. 

She seeks to be the pinnacle of all his intimate encounters, the one that will move him to greater heights- places neither of them have been before, where others never dared to explore. She wants all that for him, for them both, and she quickly assesses the situation- how Dew is completely naked now.

Selene rationalizes this, thinking its only fair for her to be in the same state of undress.

She conspires to feed off his confidence, encouraged by everything he's done and said up to now. Without another thought, she rises from the bed to stand in front of him.

Immediately, they're creating magic again with their eye contact and it doesn’t break, nor does Dew move back to provide more room for Selene as she begins to remove her dress in silence.

They remain close, both bare for each other as her clothes join the heap of others previously discarded.

Selene is resolved to be brave, proud in the way Dew is as every nerve goes on edge from the weight of his stare.

He doesn’t say anything, too choked for words at seeing her. Impactful, breathtaking.

Its enough for him to momentarily stop stroking himself, for he can’t be preoccupied with anything other than taking in the full sight of her body.

Its like every dream, a collection of all the best ones of his life, colliding. 

This is happening.

—————

Her heart is racing again, with confidence threatening to collapse as Dew remains silent.

She's understanding of his reaction, assuming its likely a good one, something akin to how she felt seeing him fully for the first time. But its still unsettling to be marveled in such a way, and she thinks to move her hand in an attempt to provide some coverage, modesty- anything to quell the exposure.

He reaches out immediately, forever intuitive in these matters as he grabs her wrist in a vice grip. He understands her intention, interpreting it easily enough by the worried expression she now carries.

Its so damn unfounded and it pisses him off- she needs to get over this.

He warns her with a pointed glare, his eyes a darkened hue of blue and grey now. 

"Don't you dare."

She gets it, and although it seems harsh, she's understanding of his thought process and intentions. He's doing her so many favors by pulling her out of comforts, enlightening her, empowering her. He's being honest, encouraging her towards the same expectation.

But its a process, not the most natural thing for her in her journey to be so confident, so open. More than anything, she just wants to be enough for him.

He's direct, but also tender and its completely undeniable how she longs to kiss his lips again. Indirectly, she's also seeking reassurance and comfort, needing Dew to reinstate the extent of his desire, remind her of it.

Unlike others, she doesn't seek this to feed her own ego.

Instead, its a soulful connection she's looking to obtain, something that extends beyond the physical and aligns with her heart, with her entire soul.

And she thinks Dew must feel it too, that its entirely possible he does when he grants her unspoken wish by stepping forward to close the space between them.

—————

She's enveloped in warmth again when he wraps her in his arms and his mouth descends at the perfect angle to kiss her slowly, deeply. These are the ones she loves the most and its fucking heavenly having his chest crushed against her own.

Its such a new sensation to feel parts of him in direct contact with parts of her now- the unfamiliarity of his chest, its texture, his piercings, the strength of him, all the heat.  
  
Everything is new, perfect and her fingers dance along his naked shoulders for a reintroduction as his tongue goes into her mouth, seeking to lure hers back into his.

She follows his lead and their kiss soon becomes ardent, leaving her gasping for air.

Its a complete invasion of space and physical property as Dew strategically backs her closer to the bed again, never leaving her mouth as they move. Then theres nowhere else to go but down.

He takes her there with reassurance, allowing her to cling to his shoulders as he softens the impact with supportive hands at her waist and hips. Together, they sink into the comfort of the mattress.

And its lovely- they would both agree, being physically closer than ever before, so attuned in their want of the other as their legs become tangled amidst roaming hands, those lingering kisses that set him off.

Dew grabs her everywhere, all over her body- that smooth skin of hers, in a way that implies his ownership.

She has to be his.

She IS his, and thats all he can think about as he repositions himself to move easily between her legs, and he could weep at how quickly she opens to accommodate him.

Its so welcoming, and she's the sweetest girl, more than Dew could have ever dreamt when he looks at her again just as their naked hips come into suggestive contact.

Selene feels every part of him, knowing he does too and everything clarifies for them.

She feels the pull he has on her, an elusive force of bewitching quality that leaves her with so much need- that great desire to do and be everything for him. And he's giving in return, demonstrating as much through his acts of selflessness, all that he's done since knowing her.

He's so expressive, and it belies so many truths at a magnitude that makes it impossible for Selene to consider him strictly possessive, fueled by self-absorption and personal fulfillment, alone.

And while she believes him to also have these tendencies, she accepts them because she knows they aren't defining his full character. Besides, she believes in the flaws, acknowledging her own and how its what makes them real, dimensional in their growing complexity.

She's aware of the goodness in Dew's heart, and he’s completely blown her's right open. 

She think perhaps he knows this, and she ponders the notion - how he seems to know her, so much of what she needs even without her vocalizing any of it.

Or maybe thats just science, a factual chemistry that just won't be denied, because the universe won't allow it. Either way, its fine, she isn't seeking explanation at the moment.

She’s actually grateful that he doesn’t demand any of this from her either, because she couldn’t speak even if she had wanted.

—————

Selene can’t even formulate words as Dew leans down to start kissing her chest, providing love bites amidst adoring licks everywhere she fucking needs them.

He stays there forever, taking his time before tapping into some urgency to feed his own hunger when he starts sucking her tits with renewed passion.

They're so full, beautifully shaped and delicious.

He's addicted, especially in his discovery of how weak she gets, so fucking hot and needy for these particular attentions. She's hard, super sensitive against his tongue and in his mouth.

Its like candy and he's spiraling as her moans fill his ears, her arms come up to hold him close and her hips begin to move more firmly against his. 

Its brilliant, everything he's doing, and she loves it so much when he stays latched to her while his hands move down to hold her hips, steadying them. He maintains control, digging his fingers into them in a bruising way that leaves her feeling entirely claimed.

Selene's own hands eventually move from his neck to reach down in pursuit of their own exploration. She brushes her nails against his chest, the expanse of skin she can reach in their close proximity.

Luckily, she finds one of his nipple rings easily enough, beginning to toy at it with gentle pulls and light scratches. Its a small return for all he’s providing to her, and it doesn't go unnoticed.

Dew wants her hands all over him, and his gratitude over her thoughtful display reinstates his determination to bite and suck harder on her tits. He could do this all fucking day, thinking as much when his attentions elicit a beautiful back arch from her that almost takes them both off the bed.

The reaction moves to feed him further as she naturally pulls closer against him, presenting an opportunity for him to take more of her in his mouth.

He does so in between licks, practically ready to consume her, and she’s breathless, although she finds the air to tell him how perfect he is and how good everything feels.

Now she's dying and he’s loving it, although in a recess of his mind, he is actually surprised that they aren’t already fucking like crazy.

All the build up and undeniable truths, their attraction- everything, had been so intense. And its still apparent, even after bringing them to the moment at present.

They're really just getting started, and intermittently, Dew has sought to gage his level of insanity in this newfound eagerness to die. It feels this way, but he doesn't care, just as long as Selene gets what she needs.

And of course he's appointed himself the sole provider of all this, anything where she's concerned. She's so worthy and he thinks he'd do anything for her. Her words, her face, the movement of her body beneath him and her loving touch, the kisses - it all leaves Dew feeling incredibly appreciated.

It makes him want to do this forever, just make her happy…make her feel all the things.

Its a phenomenon that he's is no longer willing to question, but the facts remain that he's never needed someone’s attention and acceptance to the extent that he demands of Selene now.

It fuels him in an undefined way, but its just the same as his need to be constantly kissing at her lips, anything to be close to her face or looking into those eyes, feeling all the curves of her feminine figure.

Nothing and no one is better than her. 

—————

His lips are on her neck then, and he begins to whisper sweet nothings against her ear, words that just flow out of him, between licks on her skin as deft fingers find her dripping cunt again.

This one is so fast, quickened by her readiness from all the foreplay and he drowns her with kisses, swallowing all the moans as she comes for him in a trembling overflow.

Dew won't tire from this anytime soon, forever mesmerized with the way she looks as he does these things to her. So many intricacies.

He loves the way she stares back into him as he works her, the way she has to bite her lip, shut her eyes so tight as the pleasure builds. He understands.

He's just that good, and he can’t wait to put his tongue inside her, thinking he’ll allow her some time to recover from this round though, before he descends to taste from the source.

In the interim, he takes up one of his new favorite things - watching her face with intense eyes as he continues to provide a lazy stroke between her legs. It drugs him and he’s in that satiated state with heavy eyelids, full of lust over how welcoming she's become- inviting his touch to her most secret place. 

"You're incredible."

Its the truth, and the only thing he can think of saying as he leans down to kiss her again. But she interrupts the pattern, pushing against his shoulder again, this time in a move to roll him onto his back.

And because he thinks she’s incredibly sexy when she uses force, hoping to see more of this, he goes willingly into her suggested position.

Since he's surrendering control, Dew assumes a more relaxed position as he moves closer towards the headboard to lay back against the sea of pillows.

Selene allows this, sighing dreamily at all the sin of him laid out before her as he crosses his arms behind his head. He watches her with something of a boyish grin, quite pleased with himself and the outward appreciation displayed on her face. 

"No babe, YOU'RE incredible."

He smirks, so full of himself and she actually loves it, reaching out then to take him back in her hand to begin some hard strokes. Her intentions for this are many things - to feed that fucking ego of his, pull him back to full erection, getting him ready for her and of course, to indulge him in pleasure.

She watches as his eyes roll back- the brilliant blue of them disappearing behind closed eyelids just after the first few pulls.

While its such a hot vision for him to see Selene doing this, it moves to distract him because all he wants to do when he beholds her beauty is reclaim the lead and fuck her senseless.

But what he's feeling from her hand, those fingers, its so good, and he has to give in fully to what he’s receiving.

He needs this and he's earned it, so he takes it. 

—————

He’s so beautiful, languid in form with his dark coloring flecked with starlight. The celestial markings of his skin seem to glow, shining amid the warm illumination of the room.

She can't get over him - how he looks, how he feels.

Although she’s aching to feel him within her, beyond ready for Dew's sweet invasion, she has to taste him. He just has to be so hot for that moment when they will finally connect and alter the world, aware that it has to be soon.

But not before this.

She looks at him again, studying his face of what she can see, noticing that his eyes are still closed as he revels in all the sensations being provided from her hand.

He's grown substantially, and is basic fire against her palm now due to the intensive friction of her motions.

She decides to slow her hand then, knowing its torturous, but also very aligned with Dew’s approach where her own pleasure's been concerned. Its total payback, the kind that neither one of them loathes, but which demands patience and control.

Dew inhibits the behavior well, throwing an arm over his face to demonstrate his restraint.

Its hot and frustrating, every bit a pleasured pain in his intent to be consumed at a gradual pace that continues to build and threatens to kill him. And he’s a literal babe when he whimpers at the start of Selene leaning in to kiss his chest. 

Still, he does not open his eyes.

He's so affected by the various attentions she playing at now, continuing that sexy firm stroke on his dick as she simultaneously pulls a nipple into her mouth, sucking on it before tugging at the ring she holds captive between her teeth.

She’s not gentle, and the sharp pain revives him with an impact that moves him to vocalize his satisfaction with a slew of filthy epithets as her lips continue to descend down his body.

—————

Dew knows he’s a loud bitch, and its very apparent when Selene buries her face between his legs. She kisses against him, in all the places other than where he wants her mouth the most.

Still, its hot. SO HOT, and the lip he has clamped between his teeth as a means to quiet himself begins to fail him again. He can't shut up, becoming squirmy as new expletives rush out of his mouth.

Everything he feels is rising to the surface again, all the good shit that has his body inflamed with elation. And with an unintentional lift of his hips, something neither of them can be blamed for, he reinstates his physical yearning for more, for release, for fucking everything.

And he’s just being terrible now, fisting at the bedding and growling at her to put him out of his fucking misery as she continues with brushing lips against his thighs and hips.

Such a cocktease, and in his frustration, he threatens to choke her or throw her out if she keeps it up. 

Its all bullshit, of course, and she’s getting off from everything Dew is saying, in addition to how he feels, and looks...the way he tastes when she finally gives in, providing that first slow lick up the length of his shaft.

Unholy Fuck.

She does it again, aware of the sudden silence as she flattens her tongue against the underside of his dick for another upwards lick, and then another.

So slow, so thorough, he's so damn hard against her.

And she’s reinvigorated, ravenous when she begins kissing on the head of his cock, loving all the unfiltered moans that re-enter the room on his sharp cries.

She concentrates her licks, tonguing firmly at the center of his head as she reinstates a firm grip on him.

Its semi-unbearable for Dew when she begins flicking her tongue there, slow and then fast, escalating the sensitivity with each passing second. Then she's putting him in her mouth, finally! but she's too preoccupied to look at him as she does this, so intent on taking as much as she can of him down her throat instead.

She’d really love to though - look at him. She’s dying to see those pouty lips of his, get a sense of the brows, forever furrowed in painful lust under his mask as he tries so very hard not to come all over her face, wanting it to last and last and last.

And she wants these things too, but...

She gives Dew a few more hard sucks, clawing along his thighs before she changes course again to kiss at his naked hips.

His skin burns beneath her lips, and she temporarily cools him with her wet tongue while his hands rush into her hair again, knotting it in one fist as she goes to bite lovingly on his hipbone.

Fuck - she’s incredible and he allows her to bite him again, encouraging another one, this time with sinking teeth. He hisses out a "fuck yessssss", unintentional as he fails to recall anyone ever doing this to him before.

He silently damns all his previous lovers on the spot, all those selfish shits- fuck them.

She's too good, so damn amazing, and he's so enamored with the softness of her dark hair, like every part of her, it feels like pure silk within his grasp.

He pulls on it with intention to lift her back up to him, but Selene keeps some resistance, moving back up his body at her own pace. And she’s so aware that he wants to be the dom so bad right now.

But he can think again...

She swings a leg over his hips to straddle him, and she's got Dew semi-choking again when her hand finds his cock. Taking it in a renewed grip, she glides his tip against her wet entrance as she hovers above him.

She's fucking soaked, slicking him. He's going to have her.

They're both so ready when he reaches out, grabbing at her hips with pressure as he guides her down onto his cock. They do this slowly, and Selene allows him to take the moment as his own, anticipating the sweet impact while she looks at him.

It shakes her - the slow approach he takes, and she's loving how controlled he is in his need to feel her inch by inch as she begins to surround him for the first time.

They fit together perfectly, and he's enamored by the view - everything from her thighs on either side of his body, to her incredible tits and the way her hair cascades over them.

But what transfixes him the most is watching himself as he disappears further into her wet warmth. He'll never forget this, how it moves him, captivating all his attention as Selene dies at the stretch and how good he feels.

—————

Dew is literal fire as he builds an inferno within her, and his attentive touch, caressing everything his hands can reach, as well as his eyes upon her all work to intensify every sensation that courses over and through her.

He's buried within her so soon, and the way she's settled her weight fully on him is so hot, perfect when she begins a deliciously slow grind.

Its sexy as fuck, and as she’d hoped, Dew moves a hand behind her to provide a coaxing touch at the small of her back and ass. He encourages her to build her thrust, desperately needing her to milk his cock while she takes pleasure for herself.

“Ride the fuck out of me, sweet girl.”

It gets her going, and she obliges with measured fucks that are deep and drawn out as she clenches on him in an impossible way that gives him so much in return.

The tempo eventually increases, powerful and seeking as the motion moves Dew further up the bed as she continues to fuck him. And it’s beautiful the way her control expires before his eyes with her moves becoming more haphazard.

He reinforces his grip at her waist and hips, supporting her when this happens, but he doesn't control the speed. His fingers do however, bite into her flesh and he's intent on leaving pointed impressions on her skin there.

He adores her, hoping his claiming touch will result in bruises that signify this unspoken love. Its what Dew fucking feels, this overwhelming need to have her and love her.

And this - the sex, its just extraordinary.

Theres such an authenticity to their connection, so much uniqueness, things neither one of them could have imagined with anybody else.

What they have, they’ve built and what they’re experiencing is something unattainable without the other.

Together, they're transcending life itself.

—————

Selene’s legs feel like they’re about to give out, eventually weighted and burning from the exhaustion of being on top. But she isn’t complaining, having adored the control she’d been given to set the pace, adjust the angle to hit her how she craved, and all the affordable views of a lustful Dew beneath her that brought her to this moment.

She squeezes her eyes shut, head tilting back as she cries out.

Her hands blindly search for Dew's arms, anything to hold onto as she comes. Then he's there, right before her when he sits up to hold her tightly.

Selene's arms immediately go around his shoulders as he stabilizes her, equally supportive and desperate to be as close as possible.

He wants to be the only thing she sees when she finally opens her eyes again, and he is. 

She's still moving, slowly now in the immediate aftermath of her first orgasm on his cock and she welcomes his dreamy kiss.

She'd missed his mouth, sighing into it now as his tongue plies hers open with little effort.

Dew occupies her with his hungry kiss, breaking contact only when he initiates his take over by turning and moving her onto her back a time later. He's controlled, gentle when he settles between her open thighs and his mouth rejoins hers as he enters her again.

He enjoys the newness of the angle, all the gorgeous expressions on her face as she accepts him and the pace he's establishing.

Dew fucks her in measured strokes, slow and torturous again as he fills her completely before withdrawing almost all the way just to plunge back into her depth again.

He doesn't know why he's like this - it kills him, but he loves it.

And her hand’s, like his prior, touch everywhere they can reach as she marvels at the feel of his muscles, how they flex and contract. Then they’re positivity gripping, a needed leverage when he quickens the thrust and begins fucking her incredibly hard, fast as his control begins to disintegrate.

She welcomes this too, acknowledging the final slip in his control, how its something to be admired- especially from him.

It hurts so good, a gorgeous burn and Selene is certain he’s going to bruise her pelvic everything if he continues in this manner. She wants him too, openly allowing the claim to her body- his absolute use of it as he takes everything he needs.

Its not one sided though, and she reaches up to caress his face, intent to soften the insistent clench of his jaw that she sees. He has so much concentration, he's so lost in himself even as he loses himself to her.

Fuck, he's beautiful and Selene beckons her demon angel to look at her, because she’s about to come again. But when she does, its so intense, ridiculously so and she can't even hold eye contact with Dew despite being the one who's demanded it.

She shuts her eyes tight again, memorizing all of the brilliance and all the beauty that he’s brought her in these moments. It feels so good, its too much.

Its fucking everything and she isn't expecting it when the intensity of his passion and everything he's given her hits again with the brilliance of a million stars shattering, of a universe collapsing. 

Its enough to move her to tears, and it does.

—————

Dew’s witnessing of this- all her unfiltered emotion, combined with the sweet warmth of her pulsing cunt and continuously undulating hips beneath him finally gives way to his own release.

Damn, he's needed this and it hits him hard too, coming so fast now.

He pulls out at the last second, gripping his steely cock. He's so wet, steaming as he pumps himself those last few pulls, coaxing everything forth.

He gives an inquiring look to Selene, seeing that she's just come back down to earth as she locks eyes with him.

She's intuitive to what he's asking without saying a word, but she wishes Dew had stayed, had hoped that he would so they could have both felt the hot spurt as he came inside her.

Nonetheless, she's touched by his consideration and suggests an adequate alternative.

Her response is one of silence, communicated with a seductive caress down the center of her body, everything laid out before him.

She waits, ready to receive her baptismal.

He comes then, shooting out on her stomach, some rogue drops landing on her tits as he vocalizes his bliss. And he continues stroking his dick even after he’s emptied himself, unaware of how he's even still fucking alive, much less able to hold himself up any longer.

—————

When Dew eventually opens his eyes again, its to find Selene smearing his cum on her skin as she waits for him to come down and join her again. With her eyes glistening from the wetness of her tears, she’s the most beautiful thing ever, and still so fucking sexy. 

He collapses then with a deep sigh of contentment, shifting to lay against her side as he provides his body some relief from his exertions.

She turns into him once he's settled, pulling him closer as her lips find his again. He takes her mouth willingly, letting her control the kiss and where she wants to go with it while he holds her face.

His heart is still racing, feeling several different emotions when he reaches out to brush the wetness from her cheeks with his fingertips. And he soon disrupts their kiss without preamble, relocating his lips to gently taste the residual saltiness of her tears from her face.

Its tender as fuck.

—————

They hold each other in silence while their breathing returns to normal, before Dew motions Selene to lay back again. He then props himself on his elbow to look down at her, beginning a lazy trace on her skin as his fingers glide amongst the essence that still adorns her.

She’s surprised when he bends his head, lowering his lips to kiss her breasts. With a subdued hunger, he licks the remnants of himself from her skin between affectionate love bites on her nipples. 

He is something else, and she loves it. She loves him even more when he begins licking his way back up to her mouth.

He goes slow, leaving a wet trail from his tongue onto her skin before finally reaching her lips, and its there that he slips his tongue inside again, flavorful, with a kiss full of patience and passion, gratitude.

They don’t say anything after that, instead regressing into a comforting silence and Dew eventually brings his head down again, this time to rest against hers as they face each other.

The shadow dance from the flames of the fireplace plays onto the walls and over their naked bodies as Selene leans in once more, this time to bestow Dew with a heartfelt kiss that he fully accepts.

He will always accept this, and he's moved to his own silence over the beauty of what they’ve just shared. The moment is remarkable, the most memorable of nights, one they won't forget for as long as they exist.

Their very first as newfound lovers. 


	18. Living in a fever dream.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dew and Selene go for round two.

They’ve been lying in silence for an unmeasured amount of time, lovingly holding each other as they listen to the fire crackle from across the room. The wind outside has also picked up, and a faint phantom howling can be heard from the distance.

It seeks to lull, making their shelter within the sturdy walls of the estate even more appropriate, revered.

Selene occasionally drifts in her state of relaxation from the sounds and all the warmth of Dew. Its unending and she’s not felt this safe in a long time as he continues to touch her.

He watches as her eyes close, dreamy when he electively begins caressing along the curves and dips of her body without preamble. Its a gorgeous sight, and he’s momentarily drawn by the beauty of her features again - entranced by the impossible length of her lashes and how they lay fanned against her cheeks as she begins to doze.

But he doesn’t want to lose her to her dreams, knowing its entirely selfish when he breaks the solitude in an attempt to gauge exactly how ready for bed she is.

“Could you sleep?”

He knows its what they both need, but he’s wanting more - ready for her again, if she’s willing. He honestly hopes her answer is no, and that she will stay awake to stay with him for longer.

Dew can see that she’s been waning, but he thinks its less from exhaustion than the relative comfort of being held, touched and so recently satisfied. He feels this way too, but it doesn’t override his want of her body or the resurfacing need to get off.

He waits for her to open her eyes and address him, continuing to study her face for the moment in anticipation of when she will. But his greedy hand has already moved to cup her breast, kneading it appreciatively as he begins to feel her body awaken back to his touch.

The growing hardness of her nipple against his palm is turning him the fuck on, so addicted to the responses he elicits from her. He sees her smile then, knowing she’s getting the message and suddenly neither one of them are thinking about sleep anymore.

“Dew, you’re terrible.”

Selene rolls backwards of her own accord, giving him a pointed look when she finally opens her eyes - knowing he’s received her answer loud and clear.

He follows swiftly, moving with ease to hover over her again as he settles himself between her legs.

“I know”, he leans down to kiss her then, thrilled to be back, surrounded by her when he whispers onto her lips, “...so terrible.”

—————

She’s clutching his biceps with a sharp intake of breath, watching between their bodies as Dew grabs his cock, running it slowly along her sex to coat himself, slick and wet. She feels her body flush over the reality of whats happening again, just as she feels his eyes back on her - that silent will of his that demands she not relapse to shyness as he looks on appreciatively.

She doesn’t, instead reaching out for another pillow to position under her head as a means to elevate herself for the view. It pleases him immensely that she's closer to his face now, and also when she lifts up to steal a kiss from him before settling back to watch him continue working himself against her.

Dew throws a challenging look from beneath his would-be brow when Selene slides her hand down his pelvis, traveling lower to sweep her fingertips at the base of him, touching at all his hot skin.

Despite the hindrance of the mask, she’s aware that he’s being fueled by her touch while he continues their sweet torture.And he's truly loving what he's doing, elated that he’s going to get what he wants, and it leaves him unhurried as he waits for the tell tale signs of her need.

He gets his cue very soon - at the start of Selene lifting her hips, desperate now for his hardness to touch more fully against her most sensitive parts. And he obliges, pointedly aligning the ridge of his cock so that it hits and rubs against her sensitized clit with every pass he makes. 

“There’s my girl.”

She’s so ready, about to fly off the bed when it becomes too much. She’s fucking drugged in lust and need, watching through heavy lids as Dew moves more fully into her. With his hand, he gently presses a leg to open her further and his eyes don't leave hers.

Dew stares into Selene's shadowy depths when he enters slowly.

He's achingly sweet, controlled as he continues to stretch her while simultaneously dying at the tight warmth. Its glorious for them both - the sensation of him invading her again, inch by inch with all his hot veiny thickness.

She can’t take her eyes off him either, thinking him truly beautiful. He essentially reminds her of an archangel, carrying the idea of such, except he’s not that at all - he’s better than that.

Dew is a dark mythical figure, diabolic with a tendency towards the fiendish, but he's also so very lovely. All she wants is him. Its a truth that will always astound her, and it does now as she moves her hands to his torso, holding onto him firmly to fall into the pattern of his lead.

The pace is slow, a soulful connection, and her hands are on fire. She’s drowning again in her desire, but she still has to let him know how amazing he is.

“Babe, you feel so good.”

It sends Dew too - all that she is, and all that she says. Its so fucking good for him.

—————

The joining of their bodies is true poetry, an inevitable magic and he’s calculated, wanting to prolong the sensations, their experience.

For now, he’s controlled and patient - basking in the beauty of sharing so much with her. Their hands maintain discovery amongst kisses, and when Dew knows its time to provide her with the necessary oxygen she requires, he buries his face in the crook of her neck.

She fills her lungs with air, spiraling from his closeness and all the sexiness of him as he continues fucking her slowly with that delicious fire dick.

But Dew’s control eventually slips and his arms begin to fatigue from the building pressure within - that challenging resolve of his to extend both their pleasure.

He’s aware of the way Selene wraps her arms around his shoulders with a significant press, then. And it encourages him to lay more fully on her, which he does as a means to find temporary relief in his rest.

His body presses along the length of her own, and she indulges in the weight of him, loving it. Although its far from crushing, its all encompassing.

And the cold of Dew’s nipple rings provide stunning currents of electricity throughout her body as they graze against her tits. She’s so hot for this and the way he takes to rushing his hands back into her hair, holding her imprisoned for the onslaught of his tongue as it finds her own again.

Its sexy as fuck when he strikes up a burning grind, his thrusts more shallow to accommodate this as he stays buried deep within her.

He stokes the fire in a new way, one that leaves Selene feeling thoroughly fucked, wholesome, desired. Damn, he is so good.

She returns the attention with kisses at his shoulders, tasting his beautiful skin as her hands continue an arduous roam over his body’s own dips and plains.

It seems to her that he’s a bit ticklish at the sides, as well - particularly his rib area, where she concentrates her fingers now, along the alluring cage that protects so many vital parts of him. Precious organs that maintain his existence.

She knows she can’t live without him now. And she admires how fit he actually is, ridiculously lithe, although hardened at many angles.

He’s fucking perfect, and she’s in love with the way he can’t stifle his laugh when she continues touching all these newly discovered parts - ones that leave him involuntarily twitching.

The moment isn’t supposed to be teasing, but it soon becomes that when he stops moving within her. He reaches down to grab her hands, effectively raising them over her head to pin against the pillow and although he’s smiling, his voice is firm.

“Stop that.”

He’s halfhearted in his warning, completely unable to resist letting go when she promises that she’ll be nice, play fair.

She’s so honest with what she wants, all her intentions and how pure they are.

“I’m just dying to touch you. Everywhere.”

—————

He releases her without regret, overtaken by the shiver thats provoked when she drags a finger down the center of his spine instead. Its succulent and when she repeats the motion, providing another ghostly touch on his skin, Dew just has to kiss her.

He repays her with sweeping tongue, followed by a hearty groan into her mouth at the start of his ass being squeezed. And he feels incredible, moved by the notion of Selene’s acceptance and how she regards him in such a desirous way, one that can’t be denied.

Its all amplified when she breaks from his kiss, voicing a wicked sincerity. 

“I need more, Dew. Fuck me harder.”

“Mmmm, yes.”

—————

She feels the coolness of air hit her body again as Dew pushes back up onto his hands.

Braced above her, his eyes are full of intent, that renewed desire that translates to her with such raw passion.

And its the Dew she knows, a quintessential part of him when his body turns energetic, awakened from the dreamy dawn of their slow fuck.

He picks up the pace substantially, adjusting his angle to go deeper, but after awhile, its not enough. And the move is strategic, full-on ghoul when his tail moves of it’s own accord to wrap around her thigh to lift it, opening her further for him.

She’s stunned by the authoritative handling, loving the take over and how Dew does these things to her without permission. She trusts him that much, fully and when he starts fucking her so deep and hard, she just knows she’ll never last.

And it feels so good for him, everything so apparent by all the “oh FUCKs” he throws into the air.

Then his hands are everywhere, and so are hers as Dew thrusts into her over and over again. It continues to the point that its almost painful, but Selene wants it and she can take it. She gives back too, meeting him measure for measure with a coinciding lift of her hips.

The impact is sensational, and she loves the way he’s still demonstrating his dominance by the insistent hold he keeps on her thigh. That tail of his thats still wrapped so tightly, intent to control, although she seeks to loosen the grip by running her fingers over it.

The touch communicates her wish, but Dew releases mainly due to the look he sees on her face. And he knows she's only looking to make this better.

She does.

He'll never deny how fucking sexy she is, especially now, when she moves to wrap her legs around him. And Dew allows it, fucking loving it, although his newfound entrapment does compel him to tame the violence of his thrusts significantly.

Its welcomed before he goes out of complete fucking control, and he takes the moment to relish all the ways Selene is currently surrounding him. 

And he’s convinced she’s an enchantress when she uses a light pressure to tame his hips further with a dig of her heel at the small of his back.

She drives him towards yet another angle, one thats so good for them both.

Then she’s close, about to come when Dew reaches out to hold her face, begging her to look at him when she does.

—————

Once again, he’s at a loss for words.

The tightening sensation of her clenching around him as she circles the abyss moves him, and she's well on her way to that sweet oblivion, ready to go as Dew sends her there.

Her limbs begin to feel weighted, heavy enough that it becomes an ordeal to keep them both locked around him any longer.

She lets them loosen, a natural occurrence when one eventually falls away from his waist while the other stays wrapped, resting in the beautiful dip of his lower back.

The pleasure is all consuming, and watching Dew above her gives Selene reason to marvel.

He's a sight with his jaw set and the muscles of his abdomen flexing endlessly as he fucks harder, urgent now. And she hears his breath hitch when she reaches out to caress his front - lightly scratching from his neck all the way down to where he's maintained his connection to her body.

His own is glorious and her hand veers off then to squeeze at his hip.

She's silently dying over her claiming touches, all these parts of him that now belong to her. And they're both entranced by the sound of their bodies, everything they hear when Dew comes back into her again and again.

He’s getting so damn close.

—————

“Sweetheart, come for me. You’re so fucking hot!“

Selene runs her hands everywhere, seeing that Dew's eyes are closed in his concentration. Even still, she picks up on the faint smile, seeing how the side of his mouth is curled in devilish smirk that acknowledges her words and their effect. 

She continues her hold on his hips, silently demanding him to join her at the edge of the earth. And when he's finally ready, she’s unyielding of his motion to pull out.

This time, she won’t allow it and she’s breathless when she provides a single word, the only one he needs - “Stay.”

Then he’s coming, spilling hot and turbulent within her depth, and he’s incredibly vocal in his release - one thats uncontrolled, that shakes him to the core. And he can’t even fucking think, only aware of one prominent thought - that this moment has surpassed every single one before it.

And its odd that he feels this sense of emotion, how it seeks to overwhelm him in beauty. Its so profound - how personal a moment this is and how full of trust they both are.

He feels…outside himself, even as he remains within her, maintaining a thrust that eventually slows as he continues to empty himself.

He knows he won’t disengage any time soon, so enamored by all that he feels and how she feels, how THEY feel.

And then she's the one begging him to look at her. 

He does, and Selene moves him yet again by the strength of her spirit, and all the adoration he sees in her eyes when she wraps her legs around him again, locking him to her.

If he had a choice, Dew would stay like this forever.

He thinks she would agree.

—————

Its all so telling when she pulls him down to lay flush with her again, taking all that he is in her arms as they kiss. Then Dew gives way to his physical exhaustion, needing an breath - or several, and he uses the opportunity to rest his head near her shoulder then.

He gives her neck a kiss, desperate to be held.

And she does, adoring him as she begins tracing patterns on his back, waiting for him to return to her from the depths of ecstasy. She’s patient, imprinting the memory forever, thinking this one of the purest forms of love she’s ever experienced.

He makes her feel so many ways and she’s musing all the emotions as his breath evens. Then he moves, adjusting himself so that he can turn his face and kiss her deeply as his body comes back to life.

Dew lifts a hand, lightly holding at her neck in a possessive way as he instills all his claim. And he's obsessed when he drags his thumb down the center of her bottom lip, opening her mouth for a hotter kiss that he plays at with a teasing tongue.

They go on like this for awhile, and Dew is so unwilling to leave even as he begins to soften inside her. But its inevitable and they’re both sighing when he finally pulls out.

His retreat is slow, intentional so that they both feel the hot mess that spills between her legs when he comes out of her - the after effects of such a thorough lovemaking.

Selene is fucking claimed when Dew moves to lay on his side, hastily pulling her back into his arms once there, and forever drowning her with kisses. 

—————

The night progresses and they’re without words, having surpassed the common language in their satiation of the other. And both are on the brink of sedation now, intertwined in a naked splendor as the moment crystallizes, simultaneous within their hearts.

Selene wants this to be forever - what she has with Dew, feeling it’s impossible to want anything less than this now.

She’s incredibly aware of her irrational need to be fully present with him, making every moment count as it becomes more apparent how precious their time really is.

She KNOWs their days of solitude are numbered, that eventually everything they’re creating will be disrupted.

Even in the midst of their whirlwind love, something pulls at her intuition that there is very little time left for them to be as they are now. Its just the reality of their situation, although they want this one to last, preferring to stay the way they currently are - alone, together in this ancient place.

And Selene is afraid of what comes next, what their future really does hold once everyone returns and Dew’s life is no longer his own anymore.

She also ponders the clergy's acceptance of her, how she will be regarded within this new community, and if Dew will maintain who he is with her as their circumstance changes, evolves.

It panics her to consider such eventualities and she has to stop mulling over it before it threatens to upset her and ruin the moment.

More than that, she hates that her thoughts have turned down this path, especially in the midst of yet another tender moment with Dew.

It’s unfair for her to doubt him, and she hates herself for it, especially when he’s holding onto her with all the care in the world.

It indirectly instills an odd sense of faith.

And she has to trust that he'll take care of them, that everything he's spoken of regarding the security of their future will hold true.

She believes him, despite her fears, deciding then to abandon further thought as she curls into him, close enough to nuzzle against his chest and kiss his heart.

—————

Dew’s touch remains continuous, a natural affinity to have his hands in constant motion as his fingers seek to comfort.

He provides satisfaction with his caress on Selene's back, how he delivers the touch with light scratches - the kind that he's addicted to as well. And it soothes her further when he wraps his arm tight at her waist, sensing that she needs to be reassured of his presence.

He is irrevocably present, hoping that his touch translates as an extension of his feelings - of exactly how much he fucking adores her. And his heart does that odd skipping thing again when she reinstates her own hold on him.

But Dew is unaware that Selene has done this in a subconscious attempt to disappear into him, to just get so lost - just them two, together.

—————

She’s dreaming on this concept when he begins a low, but audible purr that indicates his heightened level of relaxation.

Its then that she truly feels how great their need to sleep is, and because they should, she unexpectedly disentangles from his arms to lay back against the pillows.

But her intentions are clear when she reaches out to Dew, who is beyond agreeable, languorous as he acknowledges the time.

He grabs the covers, lifting them over their bodies as he moves into her arms.

Just as she’s intended, he rests his head on her naked chest with another sigh of contentment, and the purrs immediately resume.

They're both asleep in minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sex! if this is what you came for, more is coming...lots!


	19. Lacrimosa.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dew, insatiable in his search for something more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Selene's POV.

I wake to the feel of his warm hands gliding over my body and his whisper of “Baby, I need you.”

The room is dark, Dew obviously having extinguished all the candles and let the fireplace burn low to a cinder before indulging in an early morning smoke.

We’re mere shadows in the faint illumination of the moon, the breeze catching our uncovered skin through one of the now opened windows. I can still see the cigarette there on the sill, nothing more than a dying ember before turning fully into ash.

I wasn’t aware that Dew smoked, but I suppose its fitting - fire ghoul that he is...

I turn my body into his, lazily wrapping my arms around his naked shoulders as I let him bring me more fully out of sleep with the drag of his lips against my cheek.

He’s gentle in my awakening, attentive with roving hands and a patient mouth on my skin. Its a stark contrast to the evidence of his hardness, which seems to be forever pressing into me.

And while I have no complaints, I also don’t immediately give into his apparent need - too wrapped up in the glorifying sensation of his face so close to mine, the open mouthed kisses he’s now spreading along the side of my neck.

I think he loves this, but I love it more.

His approach is so tender, attentive and drugging as he licks against the skin he’s continuously abrading now with his mask in a silent apology. He needn’t apologize. If only he realized the extent of my desire for that deep burn, the sheer unintended roughness - or is it? and the constant reminder of all his mysticism.

It sets me on fire, although I’m dying to see his beautiful face, kiss it, and adore it the way I do him - all that he is. And I silently communicate to him just how much I feel when I move my fingers along the ridges of his mask - the place intended to be ghoul hair, although its not Dew’s - before moving down to hold his nape.

I press his face further into the crook of my neck, encouraging the continuation of that deep contact and pleading for him to give me some more of his “rough”.

Between that and the way I’ve turned myself more fully against his naked body, my feet beginning to glide against his legs - he knows.

Dew gets it, opening his mouth then on my hot skin with arduous love bites and sucking.

It feels so fucking good with him stirring everything back to life as my toes curl at all the sensations. I feel it at my center, my heart, my entire being as I return the passion with kisses to his shoulder, holding him closer, needing to be so fucking wrapped up in him.

I can feel his hard cock between our bodies, pressed against lower abdomens and I want so badly to reach down, put him in me. But this time is different, a new discovery with more fluidity - as I learn more of Dew.

And I silently adore his restraint, knowing he wants this to last. I can feel it, and I understand. We don’t have the urgency and wonder, the unbridled tendency of a first fuck to be dealt or even the second now. We’ve done that, already gone all the way.

But there are so many more ways, and this time, we’ve attuned ourselves to the idea of exploration - gratuitous extensions of acceptance, an untold loyalty with our bodies.

I’m wondering what I’ve done to deserve this, giving a soft push on his shoulder then, so I can look at him again.

He’s beautiful, even in the darkness, moonlight casting shadows and light across the features of his mask. I see my own reflection within it and it astounds me, but nothing nearly as much as when I look into his eyes.

Just gorgeous, and I have to cup his face, trace my thumb against the cheek while I sigh, wishing this mask was gone. I’m falling so so much further into my feelings for him.

Doesn’t he know how lovely he is?

He doesn’t say anything, but we’re holding each other’s gaze, both hyper aware of all the contact of our bodies.

We’re familiar now, I’m not shy and he never was.

I drag my fingertips down to his jaw, the beautiful angle thats exposed, loving the power of it as I caress along the sharp edge. Its so different from what my touch has become accustomed to throughout my adult life, so different from what I thought I could only ever adore - that of a man, all I’ve ever known.

Dew is so much more.

—————

Since he has made no inclination yet to kiss me, I make a move towards his lips as indication of my invitation. I glide a finger over his bottom lip, loving the fullness of it, especially when he’s in an unassuming pout.

Dew speaks then, the first words he’s said since he stirred me - “You might not like the taste. Its intensified now.”

I know he’s referring to the smoke I smell on him, the traces of it no doubt on his tongue. And I love that he has this opinion, the idea that I won’t kiss his mouth because he smoked, and yet that didn’t stop him from doing so.

Somehow, it makes me mind it less. Instead, admiring the fact that he won’t change this part of himself for me or anyone. And I don’t want him to.

“Kiss me, anyway.”

So he does, his delight apparent by the groan as his mouth descends on mine, already open and waiting to receive him.

I feel lightheaded with the taste of him, and while there is smoke there, there is also so much more.

I delve further, needing his sweetness as I explore everywhere. Its a sexy kiss, one he’s soon lost control of as I plunder his mouth with my tongue, circling his with my own, between kisses at his lips and teeth.

I need him to know that this is okay, that I accept every part of him, that I want him.

Dew just has to know these things.

—————

I’m definitely awake now, apparently more needy than he is as I reach between our bodies to squeeze his cock. I revel in his sharp intake of breath, the naughty smile he makes against my lips when I start another tantalizing stroke - the long and slow pulls that he just can’t resist.

And I love the way he closes his eyes, abandoning train of thought, along with our kiss as he gets lost. His lips remain parted, panting for air - so close to mine, and I kiss his chin while I go on.

I let him fall into the pleasure of my touch, unoccupied in everything except the sensations its bringing to him, although I’m so fucking ready. I'm actually dying for the moment he’ll connect himself to me again in that most intimate way, and it all seems so promising.

I’m accustomed to this lovely type of lovemaking, spoon fucking while staring into each other’s eyes, the both of us meeting each other measure for measure.

Its totally my game and I want it now with Dew.

I make a move, wrapping a leg over his hip, opening myself to receive him as I guide him towards my entrance. But he immediately comes out of his entrancement, interrupting the singular euphoria of his dick in my hand.

He’s stern in the scolding, but not unkind as he moves his hand down between our bodies to hold at my own in a reassuring way.

“Be patient, Selene. I want to make this last.”

I can’t argue with him, drinking on his lips when he comes in for more kisses. They’re playful again as he takes nips against mine, and I know he’s smiling with a devilish intent.

I can almost see the way his face animates within the shadows of the mask in a brilliant way.

I’m really learning him, or so I think. But then he catches my gasp in his mouth, fully anticipating it, as his hand caresses between my legs.

He suffocates me now, continuing his intimate touch with full handed strokes, smearing the wetness yet again. Eventually, I'm afforded some breathing room, as he always seems to know just when I need it.

In this matter, I'm learning how Dew takes me to the very edge, right before I feel my lungs will explode before he lets me up for air. His kisses are that consuming, and when I say he steals my breath - its literal.

Its a greedy thing, but he always gives back and I’m welcoming to the intake of breath, the sound of my tripping heart as he continues to explore with deft fingers.

He rubs again and again, taking parts of me between his fingers to tug at, stroking and playing - fucking killing me. I let out a sigh at the feel of him putting a finger in my cunt and then two, as his thumb finds my clit again.

It feels like heaven, as does being so pressed up to him, how I've anchored myself with the leg I have around those gorgeous slim hips of his. And it allows for a more solid thrust his way - into his touch, his body, those hot ass fingers inside.

I’m gripping his arm, keeping his hold in me steady as I start moving and I think this is it. I’m going to fuck his hand while his eyes bore into me at this close proximity.

I am fucking ready, but he withdraws so soon to leave me reeling once more. I could kill him, although I shouldn’t be surprised.

Dew is a tumultuous lover, and I think he will forever keep me on edge, keep me excited, keep me begging. And I do this now, despite knowing this is too fast, too soon.

The look he gives tells me so many things. He’s tortured too, but he wills us to go slower and I realize I’m just making it worse by fighting this in my desire to dive right in.

That means something, and it grounds me.

It shakes me when he brings his fingers to his mouth, tasting all the wetness he’s elicited again but his words are the sweetest.

And unlike anyone before Dew, I believe him when he says these things.

“You’re absolutely perfect.”

—————

Jesus fuck!

I feel him grab his cock again and I quite literally want to sob as he glides his head against me. He’s so hot and he does it again and again, exploring the folds, drenching himself impossibly amidst the wetness.

All I can do is press my face into his lovely chest, comforted by the warmth I find there, as well as the delicious scent of him.

I don’t know why he’s doing this, aware that it has to be so much harder for him as he begins running his entire length against me. But he remains controlled, calculated and its so damn good.

I hold on, feeling his hand go to grip my hip as he kicks up a slow thrust forward. Its perfection again - how Dew’s creating such a sexy friction between us in such a way that we’re basically fucking without actually fucking.

Every drag and hit of his head against my clit throws me into an eventual orgasm that leaves me dazzled and disoriented.

I love this and its actually me who can’t shut up as I come, biting into his chest and clawing against his piercing when it happens.

He holds me through the waves with a possessive claim. And its so appropriate.

I belong to him.

—————

Then he rolls me onto my back, laying low between my thighs in such a way that I can feel his hard abdomen against my wet center.

Its so sexy.

This fucking ghoul does not let up nor shy away from anything. It really compels me to do the same, knowing I have a stake in this too.

I claim him with my own touch, a communication of my body’s possessiveness towards him as I wrap my legs around him.

And Dew comes in closer, dropping low to lay on me fully as he kisses me, he kisses me, he kisses me.

“You’re torturing yourself, sweetheart.”

“Us, both”, he corrects me.

And its all truth, so obvious to him by indication of my deep breaths, and the way my hips are blindly pressing forward to touch more of him.

“Please, sweet girl”, he whispers against my skin, dragging his lips down the center of my body as he descends. “I need this to last.”

We’ve definitely fallen into an abyss that neither one of us can explain, interpret. This should be wrong - to be feeling so much, so soon.

But is it wrong in the way he’s kissing every part of me slowly, so thoroughly? How effortlessly I’ve opened to receive his hot mouth as my legs fall away from him again, allowing his drugging lips everywhere as he lowers himself.

This isn’t wrong.

—————

He’s beautiful between my thighs, shadows and moonlight, celestial skin that covers the most elegant shoulders, and arms, and hands…

He gives a reassuring touch as he glides his fingers up my body and in my love for him, I’ve forgotten inhibition. There is no reluctance, reservation or shyness - only wonder while I watch starry-eyed as Dew lowers his face to kiss my sweetest spot.

We’re moving in slow motion, and I’m aching as I try hard not to fuck up into his mouth as a means to reach my peak faster.

I hold out for him, because I want this to last too, but I also can’t take the view of him licking and kissing so perfectly at my cunt.

He’s so fucking gorgeous! and the view threatens for me to come too fast. So I lay down fully then, giving into everything I feel and I let that guide me.

The sheets are cool behind my back as my eyes flutter shut again, and I think only of Dew. I feel only him, hear only him and that hot wet tongue that leaves no part of me unattended.

He lavishes so much attention, slowing the advances of my orgasm with a turn of his head to place kisses to my legs and thighs. Its so good when he captures some of that sensitive skin between his teeth, biting on me playfully.

He’s too damn much.

I feel him return his attention to my center a short time later, and my body gets incinerated at the start of him breathing me in.

Its too much.

Then his mouth is back for gentle kissing, teasing again in the build up as he drags his tongue lazily between the folds.

I swear he’s purring as his hands begin to wander with gorgeous fingers roaming, feeling their way up my body with appreciative squeezes and light scratches. He’s blindly reaching, touching everywhere he can, stabilizing me in a silent plea.

And I understand why he needs me to stay calm, why I need to be forced down by the strength of his arms when he latches onto my clit.

He’s fucking unending as he draws it into his mouth with hard sucks and I’m about to die at the start of his teasing flicks. That perfect tongue that goes deliciously fast before reverting back to slow lazy circles and I can’t decide which approach I love more.

I love it all.

And I hate Dew, while also adoring him. I do my best to remain calm, desperate to receive all the hot sexy dirtyyyy shit he’s giving to me.

I slow my hips, and force myself to breathe. I try so hard not to reach down and shove his face further against my cunt.

By sheer will, I do the opposite of this desire and relinquish all control instead.

—————

Dew rewards me for this, his hot breath caressing when he takes a breath.

“Good girl. You’re so sweet, baby.”

I let him own me.

I fucking want him too and its welcoming when his hands find my tits to hold and squeeze with thumbs that attentively stroke and scrape against my nipples.

Every part of me becomes sensitized - so sweet a pleasure, the best I could have imagined with Dew.

And I’ll never understand how I find him so fucking nasty - the sexiest bitch and a total bad boy, but also the most sincere and tender ghoul.

I am falling deeper.

—————

The build up is so fucking intense, its so like him - this immense hurricane of life and feeling, of desire and pleasure.

I come in an overflow of ecstasy and emotion.

There’s a great serenity to it that I feel, even as I lose my breath and squeeze my eyes shut. 

The world seems to fall away. 

Dew blindly reaches for my hands as I come on his tongue, interlocking our fingers to let me know he’s there with me.

And I feel near tears at the motion, all the fucking sentiment and tenderness of it.

Its almost alarming, the way this feels, and I vaguely wonder when I lost control of everything - the notion that I don’t know myself anymore, or rather that I don't belong to myself any longer.

But it doesn’t matter, its beautiful and new.

Just as well, my body is continuously flooded with warmth and elation, along with my heart.

I’m just finding that I want more. I have an endless hunger now, and its all for Dew. In this moment, even as I become more sensitive and he remains close, I still want more.

I don’t even have to say anything. He knows, and he gives it to me with a reassuring squeeze on my hand before he takes it away.

Dew begins kissing between my legs again, lapping up everything before him as he adds his newly freed fingers to join his mouth and tongue.

My hungry ghoul.

And its spellbinding the way he gets me off in a few short moments, understanding and welcoming to the residual lift of my hips - the way I fuck his mouth this time, as I come again.

—————

I’m outside of my body while the minutes pass, watching from somewhere above as Dew rests with his head on my abdomen.

The purrs are consoling, and I’m brushing fingers lazily along his mask, so gently over the horns - a place I never had the courage to touch until now.

I didn’t ask permission before doing so, but he’s allowed it. And I feel within my bones that there truly is no place off limits for us now.

Somehow, Dew has provided an unspoken consent - one that instates my wandering touch to go everywhere. I allow the same claim to be taken of my own body, but that permission had been granted far before this moment.

How can we not be this way, this open, with everything we’ve shared now?

—————

Dew is gripped onto my hips again, not tight, but secure as he continues to hold me.

I eventually take one of his hands in my own, needing that connection - the reassurance that we’re both still here, present. And he takes it willingly, giving a soft moan into my skin as I start small traces on his neck and back.

I’ll never tire from the enjoyment of being able to touch his naked body, all the warmth that radiates. However, he’s cooler now, I've noticed, and I’m quick to understand his desire to have a window open.

Dew is actually such a darling in his consideration to maintain a comfortable body temperature for the both of us and this is clearly what he's done. But either way, he incinerates me.

All it will ever take is a look from him, a touch.

—————

In time, he moves his weight off of me, pressing up to join my mouth with his. And I take him fully in my arms, welcoming his tongue, loving the taste of us on it.

This kiss seems so unlike the others, claiming in a new way that stirs me alive again as both our needs become apparent once more.

His are clear, my demon angel. He needs so damn much and I want to give it to him, everything.

Dew breaks the kiss then, still hovering over me deliciously with eyes so clear, brighter with the coming of the dawn - they are the most beautiful blue, so full of reverence.

And I can’t believe the words when he tells me:

“I want to make love.”

I’m dying.

He’s never had this before - I can tell with the way his eyes silently plead for it now. I’m moved by the trust, an evident courage this might have taken for a ghoul like him to admit, to ask, to need.

I kiss him with every reassurance, everything that I have so that he might know his heart is safe.

“We will.”

—————

And we do.

We make love continuously, at a deliberate pace set to ignite us slowly.

I receive Dew fully as he glides into me in that aching way that feeds us both. And I'm dying again over the way he’s closed his eyes to fully feel the grandeur of the moment, how we go on like this forever.

But I can’t look away, enamored by the beauty before me and I’m there when he finally opens his eyes to hold me captive in his stare.

We build up to a blaze of burning desire, each stroke and thrust intensified by the continuous push and pull of our bodies.

We’re so in tune, so accommodating, giving to the other.

I feel made for him, and when he comes, I kiss him, holding his face, his body - instilling all my warmth into him with admiration.

And I come shortly after, riding off his lasting waves of pleasure. I do what I couldn’t earlier, I don’t look away this time. And his eyes tell me everything he doesn’t say.

I get lost there, knowing only him and this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you read this as yourself, i wanted you to...


	20. Still life.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selene introduces a new morning ritual and Dew takes some liberties.

the moment that you want  
is coming, if you give it time.  
when you wake up,  
you will find me.

—————

Selene finds that she doesn’t require much sleep in light of her past few days in a comatose state. So its no surprise when she awakes only a few hours later, following her and Dew’s last moment of intimacy.

While its difficult for her to decipher the time based on the level of darkness that still infiltrates the room, its light enough outside to be at least midmorning. Once her vision adjusts, a confirming glance towards the window reveals an overcast sky, one of muted gray.

She’s still naked, cozy under the heavy duvet she’d unconsciously wrapped around herself in sleep. It hits her quite suddenly that Dew isn’t in her arms anymore, with him having shifted to lay on his front at some point during the night.

He’s still close, but his face is turned away from her now, resting against his raised arm that lays atop the pillow. Its an ideal position to catch the natural breeze that continues to filter through the open window, affording a comfortable temperature for him as he sleeps on.

Selene listens to him breathe, so even, deeply - and she remains silent as she watches the subtle rise and fall of his back, forever entranced by the beautiful constellations across his dark body that seem to glow faint in the low light. She studies them in detail, realizing its the first chance she’s had to consider his bare back, and of course it leaves her swooning as her emotions towards Dew resurface.

She hopes he’s having beautiful dreams, unsure if its something ghouls do, but if so - wherever he currently is, she hopes he feels her love for him.

It means something, this - how she wills happiness to be bestowed upon him, thinking as much while she yearns to reach out and trace a finger down his spine. Selene finds every part of him so enticing, and her hands ache to journey under the pooled sheets at his waist, feeling desperate for the warmth of his skin - anywhere she can grab in order to be close and instill some claim on him again.

She wonders how its even possible to be this fucking attractive without effort, how his effect can be so strong, even in sleep.

Sometimes it threatens to overwhelm her, but it never makes her want him less, and while she wants to touch him now, she knows her darling ghoul needs so much rest. And because its inevitable that he will eventually wake, Selene resolves to be patient.

The silence gives her pause to contemplate where they go from here - now, in the morning light of a new day. Physically and emotionally, they're both so very different from where they were even just a day ago, and she can only hope he feels the same way she does about…everything.

In her soul, she knows he does - that they could never go back to how it was before, back to when they could have been classified as strangers. But now, its so clear they belong together - all the truths evident when he looks at her, touches her and all the ways he makes her feel. 

The notion warms her to think Dew feels everything she does too.

—————

Selene eventually decides to unravel herself from the soft warmth of Dew’s bed.

With her bladder screaming for relief, she slowly maneuvers out of the sheets with as much finesse possible, so as not to disturb her slumbering lover. But once on her feet, she’s less than graceful as she experiences the full impact of their lovemaking - all the aftereffects of Dew’s delicious ardor from the previous hours.

She’s actually quite sore, slightly keeled over on awkward legs as she begins to walk, but its a beautiful tenderness.

Every slight strain, simple scream of her body oddly becomes a remedial sensation when she reflects on the cause - a pleasured pain wrought from so many moments filled and fucked by him. It all feels…achingly perfect, and Selene doesn’t know why she’s the way she is in this regard, but the physical discomfort is one she carries with pride.

She takes a quick glance back to his beautiful sleeping form then, confirming the perfection where he lays, before padding lightly around the bed with arms crossed over her chest in a very sad attempt at modesty that nobody is requiring.

There’s an apparent chill that hits her naked skin, and as she’s not exactly confident proceeding in a casual fashion to walk around with no clothes on, she happily grabs Dew’s discarded black shirt from the floor on her way into the adjoined bathroom.

—————

Its the first true self assessment she’s had in a mirror since finishing her bath the evening before last, and looking at herself now, Selene feels more in tune with who she is than ever before. If it could be described, her appearance lends itself to the rawest sense of human desire, and she can feel that subtle shift from within, how its altered her.

She feels loved in a new way, certain that what she’s experiencing didn’t previously exist until this moment. Its strange, so far removed from anything rational or tangible, but something about the way he makes her feel has moved her to her own self acceptance.

It doesn’t need deciphering and since she doesn’t want to get too lost in her heavy thoughts this early, Selene begins to do normal morning things, finding it an interesting experience in the new setting of Dew’s bathroom.

Of course she’s been devoid of her own personal essentials for some time now, but she doesn’t mind as she shifts her attention to focus fully on the pleasure of acclimating to the beautiful space she’s found herself in.

Its all pristine lighting, luxurious with its expensive fixtures and black marble, ridiculously masculine. She’s also impressed by how clean it is, somewhat surprised by this, as she initially thought Dew might have been one with a tendency to leave a mess. At least where she was concerned, Selene knew that much to be true. 

But regarding other matters, she thinks perhaps its been an unfair assessment as she reaches for his toothbrush. She’s realistic over the shock value here, of how there really is none when she considers where both their mouths have been. Either way, she has to get rid of her morning breath in preparation for the kiss she’s dying to give him when he wakes up. It’ll just have to do.

Theres also an indirect intimacy in using Dew’s products, noting how they don’t differ much from that of a human, which makes it all the more convenient. And while its not altogether necessary, she does also find a brush to give her hair some quick attention. As her favorite feature, its important for her to make it somewhat presentable now, certain that to some degree, Dew appreciates this possession of hers very much.

Once its adequate, tamed enough to her liking, Selene reflects on the way he’s aggressively delved his fingers through it so many times now and she knows it’ll be tangled again very soon.

The idea of this is enough to make her smile as she puts on his worn shirt, smelling the faint spice that still clings to it. And watching her reflection before the mirror, she’s not sorry in the least over the very small amount of buttons that have remained intact.

It really affects her - the knowledge that Dew’s fingers touched these buttons, that the fabric laid against his body in perfect fit, and how he basically ripped this shirt off in his urgency to be bare for her. She dies over the mental image, how fucking sexy he was and so damn impatient.

As a physical extension of the memory, she adores this shirt, even as it fails to cover much and remains tight across her chest. Its mostly open, and she halfheartedly damns Dew once again for being so damn lithe, so physically perfect in every way. But if she’s honest, Selene also doubts she’ll be wearing it long enough to care, at least hoping that will be the case.

In regards to clothes, she has no idea where her underwear are either, and while they aren’t a necessity, every step she takes begins to elicit a greater awareness of how raw the skin between her thighs have become, everything so tender in that well-fucked kind of way.

She can’t complain, loving all the tell tale signs of Dew’s affections. However, partially for some relief in this area, but more realistically for the purpose of hygiene, she does take advantage of the privacy in order to do a quick clean.

Once sorted, she smooths her hair, a natural habit more than anything else, as she goes to open the door.

—————

Walking back into the room, she thinks to head to Cirrus’ closet in order to collect her pile of chosen clothes. She’s also entertaining the idea of running down to the kitchen for some breakfast items while Dew sleeps, but when the bed comes back into sight, she finds to her delight that he’s rolled over onto his side.

Suddenly her plans are out the door.

He gives only the slightest shift of his arm at the movement of Selene sneaking back into the bed. She cozies up, laying her head close to his so that they’re sharing the same pillow.

Still, he doesn’t wake.

And it’s fine, although its becoming ridiculous how much she misses him - those bright eyes and all his sarcastic expressions, his voice and the way he often looks at her with so much open desire.

Theres also such a lovely quality in being able to gaze upon someone deeply cared for in this manner. And Selene guesses she’s that creepy girl now, continuing to unashamedly adore the way Dew looks in sleep before her. 

She’s so impressed that he can manage to lay comfortably with the mask, much less actually sleep, although even she is seeing it as less of an issue now. Its actually just part of their current situation, one that she accepts as she raises her hand to give the lightest caress down the side of it, suddenly unable to resist.

Her fingertip glides softly from the temple to the cheekbone and then down to trace the severe angle of Dew’s actual jaw, forever warm to the touch. And again, he doesn’t wake at this, giving only a faint stir, as her fingers trail against the side of his neck in a continuing touch that moves uninterrupted towards his bare shoulder, then down his arm.

She knows the sensations are there, that his body just needs to recognize them…

With an appreciative glance towards his chest, along with the knowledge that he’s naked under the sheet, Selene’s restraint does finally slip.

She finds herself out of patience, although fleetingly she rationalizes her lack of respect for his rest. The truth is she needs him, and every part of her misses him, even now as they’re laid down and so physically close.

She moves against him, reaching out with a loving rub to his chest that soon becomes effective as the edges of his mouth begin to pull into a lazy smile. Dew gives a groan then, stretching his legs out under the sheets with eyes still closed as he leans intuitively into her touch.

His voice is raspy with sleep when he eventually speaks.

“I could get used to this.”

She’s so glad to hear it, her heart soaring when she responds.

“I love it too.”

—————

It prompts Dew to open his eyes in muted surprise, somehow not expecting to hear such sincerity so soon out of sleep or really…ever. He’s never been woken up like this, and especially not to anyone as lovely as Selene with all her tender attention.

He finally looks at her and the images of the night before flash across his mind. It compels him to smile with a genuine quality that doesn’t hold a double meaning. Theres no mischief or devious intent, he’s simply happy to be in this moment with her, feeling incredibly rested and so relaxed. 

Neither one of them speak, both too lost for words as they consider the other and what this means to wake up together. Its so new, very different for Dew and he just can’t understand how she’s so damn beautiful.

He doubts she’s aware of his growing obsession with her eyes, which appear golden in certain lights, but mostly remain incredibly dark, mysterious in beauty like so many secrets of her past. And he’s unsure if he’ll ever fully know her in that regard, at least who she was, but he finds he cares less as the reality hits once again of how she’s here with him now.

Really, thats all that truly matters.

He knows her like this, aware that she’s changed just as well as he has by a circumstance that continues to evolve them with inexplicable force. Its weaving them into such exclusivity...

He reaches out then, feeling the silence needs his interruption when he begins tracing the curve of Selene’s cheek with a soft touch.

Its so affectionate, everything she requires. Although for Dew, its more a means to stay connected to the perfection, something he feels she certainly is, as he continues to fall more in love with her features.

She just stares at him, transfixed while he comes more fully out of sleep amid several eye blinks, and she begins experiencing tingles along her scalp and down her neck when his fingers eventually delve back into her hair.

Yes, its so clear to her now - how obsessed he is with it as his fingers twirl around some of the tendrils that frame her face.

He gives a teasing pull to her hair now and then, something she doesn’t mind at all. In fact, Selene revels at the touch - of Dew’s full appreciation and how obvious he becomes in his fascinations. Its something she’s less modest about herself, and she hopes she possesses many attributes, such as this, that will continue to make her irresistible to him.

—————

His eyes eventually return to hers just as he gives another pull on her hair, this time methodical to bring her closer to him.

Selene doesn’t wait, closing the space immediately in her own willingness to crush her lips against his. She’s been waiting for it since she woke up, and her kiss translates the urgency in a way that even stuns her, although Dew doesn’t seem to mind.

He forgives the violent knock against his teeth when she comes in too fast, and he thinks her the cutest when she gives an irritated growl in frustration, drawing back slightly from his lips to adjust the angle before trying again.

Better.

The collision of their mouths is smooth on the second attempt, but with no less passion, and the response from Dew is so immediate when his hand reaches up to cup the back of her head. Holding her more fully against his mouth, he hungrily welcomes the best good morning kiss she has to give.

He keeps his hold loose, allowing her to take lead in the beginning, but eventually his passion grows in a natural affinity to overwhelm her.

Dew shifts then, turning more fully into her body for the take over, intent to drown all her senses as his tongue delves in for exploration across every part of her mouth. Its so sexy, but he also maintains a sweet aspect in his attentions, wanting to give her so much with this kiss - anything to prove just how real his desire for her is.

Its unending, regardless of the day or the time and Dew is actually certain he’s always going to want her, although he also feels a measure of fear that somehow it will never be enough. He considers this only in recognition of how insatiable Selene makes him, even more than he’s predisposed by nature to be, but while it moves to startle him, he still doesn’t harp on it.

He continues kissing her until even he is breathless, and because he’s aware of her ever present need for air, how it doesn’t come quite as easy for her as it does for him, he regretfully decides to break the connection.

The struggle to detach from her is too real, although Dew eventually does so that they can both breathe.

Giving a great exhale, he rolls onto his back again, leaving her laid next to him as they both stare at the ceiling. Once they’re leveled and the silence infiltrates the space again, Dew reaches for her hand to bring to his lips.

It compels her to turn her head where it lays on the pillow, and looking over, her heart fills fit to burst. She watches him with eyes closed, so damn content and affectionate as he drags his lips against the top of her hand over and over, adoring the soft skin.

Its too sweet, almost more than Selene can stand.

Eventually she pushes into his side, rolling towards him as she takes her hand from his lips to hold his face instead. She closes her eyes, leaning down wordlessly to take him in another kiss thats gentle and slow.

They draw it out, suddenly in no great rush, but at some point Selene has to interrupt, and its a long enough pause for Dew to open his eyes again, searching hers for the reason. She makes it clear though, answering the silent inquiry when she finally vocalizes the greeting thats been brewing ever since he opened his eyes and looked at her.

“Good morning, my darling ghoul.”

The sweetness of her consoles him, increasing his want of her so impossibly as her words relax and leave him feeling cherished as fuck. And he begins to believe that this might be what a perfect “morning after” must entail.

He assumes as much, although he wouldn’t know. Dew considers his past, how he’d never really been one to stick around or allow someone to stay with him overnight for that matter.

But everything feels changed, for he can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be than here with her, waking up just like this without any inkling of panic, disdain or regret.

He wants to convey this, doing so when he kisses his own greeting onto her lips. Then he’s laying back against the pillows in an open invitation for Selene to resume her love.

“Good morning, sweet girl.”

—————

Selene kisses Dew’s smooth skin, teasing with her tongue over all the beautiful marks that adorn his neck before arriving at his ear. She elicits a full body shudder from him, elated when the purrs resume and he sinks further into the bed.

He soon fails to mask a yawn, mildly hoping she won’t take offense, because he truly is enjoying everything she’s doing. However, it does catch her attention, and after giving his ear another quick kiss, she pulls back.

Assessing his face, she wishes to confirm if he wants her to continue. 

She cares, more understanding of Dew’s exhaustion now that she’s had her kiss from him. And she’s unworried when she returns his smile, captivated by the dreamy expression he gives before readjusting his position for a full body stretch.

Dew is a fucking masterpiece.

It compels her to return her hand to his naked chest, and she’s less shy with her attentions now, continuing to skim along his nipples before beginning a thorough trace on the outline of his rib cage. For this, she’s light-handed in remembrance that he’s ticklish here.

She knows this body, she’s claimed it. Its a truth that excites her as she fully welcomes the day ahead and all the possibilities it holds.

Selene takes her time on Dew, stroking at his chest as before, loving how the comforting sensation of her touch appears to be lulling him as his eyes drift shut again. But its clear he’s still awake when she leans down to kiss the center of his chest with her hair spilling across his body.

The deep throated moan that arises from him confirms this, moving her to trail her mouth over his body with open mouthed kisses. She does it slowly with intermittent licks to taste his skin, finding it now salty from the sweat of all their exertions. And she can’t stop herself from flicking her tongue against his nipples, so adoring when he gives a sharp intake of breath at the beginning of her light suck on him.

Dew reaches out blindly to grab her arm, and she just knows he’s dying for this as she continues awhile longer. And eventually his hold loosens, falling away while she carries on with sprinkled kisses of appreciation.

It’s so easy for him to give into this, so he does.

—————

The deepened rise and fall of his chest, as well as his evened breathing some minutes later soon calls her attention back to his face.  
  
She moves up, placing a soft kiss on his now slightly parted lips before whispering against them to tease him.

“You’re not falling asleep on me are you, demon?”

His smirk is so hot, oddly boyish to her.

“No, witch. I’m just resting my eyes.”

He’s really too much, witty as hell even when he’s half dead and she’s taken by the new endearment, that undercurrent of wickedness that it holds.

“It’s fine”, she replies, trailing her hand down his body again, further this time to move underneath the sheet that’s pooled around his slim hips. “You should rest, baby.”

Even as she says this, she doesn’t fully mean it - kissing his mouth then, at the same time that her hand finds his lovely cock. She wraps her fingers around the girth of him, giving a hot pull that leaves her center aching over the memory of him stretching her with it.

Selene is so fucking hungry for his dick again, but her own pleasure is quickly overridden by a greater need to provide Dew with some singular attention.

She continues her touch, and he just fucking knows whats happening - so clearly caught between blissful weightlessness and increasing desire.

He opens his eyes when she strokes him again, definitely awake as he reaches down to pull the sheet from his body in an action meant to afford them both the pleasurable sight of him growing more fully in her hand.

There isn’t a shy bone in Dew’s body and his responses are so natural when his hips begin gentle lifts, mimicking the motion of a good fuck as Selene squeezes him tighter to intensify the sensation. And its only made better when he finds himself in an intense stare off, holding her with a dare to not look away.

She doesn’t, forever amazed at how easily they can go from sweet and playful to the most lustful acts of their heart’s desires.

The dynamic is perfection, something they’re both aware of.

This isn’t a game for them, its a strong connection being shared - something incredibly deep now, and Dew recognizes his own growing trust, how it preps him for the surrender in this newfound need to be so incredibly open with her. And he is, eventually giving in as his instinct for control abandons him to the enjoyment of Selene’s ministrations.

He really fucking needs this.

—————

Selene soon adds her mouth back into the equation, kissing against his bare shoulder before doing the classic Dew move when she lays out against him, propping herself on an elbow. For added touch, she hooks a leg over his thigh to keep him open.

Its such a view for her, admiring every part of Dew’s naked body as he struggles to kick the rest of the sheet away. And its no surprise that she’s already wet over the feel of him in her hand, or how it intensifies when the wetness of his precum seeps onto her fingers in a warm gush.

She rubs it over his length to give a nice slick as she reinforces her strokes, and its enough to make Dew reach out, needing so much attention as he wraps a hand at her nape to pull her down for a kiss.

The intensity of his response leaves her so impressed, feeling the pulse of his veiny cock in her hand as he holds onto her like he’s already about to come.

His grip remains tight on her neck, eventually breaking from their kiss with the need to catch his own breath. But he stays close, pressing his forehead against hers and his hips become uncontrolled in search for a release.

He silently wills Selene to get him off, and he’s so close, basically begging for it several minutes later although he can’t formulate the words.

Then he’s hit with disbelief, at a complete loss in his shock when Selene does the opposite of what he’s needing. His body begins to feel ignited, painfully so, and he’s frantic, pissed off, an actual whining bitch at her loosening grip on him.

“Don’t fucking stop!”

But she does and Dew is volcanic, wishing her so many deaths, even at the feel of her hand trailing back up his body until she’s holding his face. She breathes into him, hoping to console the fact that he looks and sounds like he’s about to die, but not before killing her.

His vengeful eyes and continuous huffing says so much.

“Dew, don’t come yet.”

She knows its fucked, but its the best she can do as she provides a reassuring kiss to his lips, one that she notes he does not return, before pulling away. He still looks so pained, angry and fucking beautiful.

But he begins to understand, watching as she moves down the bed to settle between his legs.

Suddenly he looks like a ghoul in love, on fire again as his eyes heat in that mysterious way to a warm gold. His heart is thunderous, feeling the brush of her fingers against his in a signal for him to release the grip he’s instated on himself in the midst of his panic.

It quickly diminishes as Selene initiates the take over, and releasing himself, he reaches up to leave the hottest caress against her face.

Yes - he’s an absolute inferno again when they connect eyes, all the excitement displayed in his while he watches Selene lower her mouth to his cock.

He’s not breathing for that first contact, at the feel of her lips wrapping around him.

—————

He’s delicious, so sexy when he starts up that subtle lift of his hips again in a blind need to get further into her mouth, as far down her throat as she can take.

Its a natural reaction, born from so much  
desire.

As a giving lover, it leaves Selene elated, especially when she has to put pressure on Dew’s hip with her free hand in an attempt to steady him so she can maintain a controlled pace. She hopes to prolong the moment, knowing its torturous, but also wanting him to enjoy the journey.

In time, she releases him from her mouth to draw in some air, flipping her fallen hair out of her face to cascade over her shoulder in the process. Its such a porn move, and she’s unsure if the moan she hears out of him comes from the visual of what she’s just done or his loss of contact from her mouth.

Either way, she keeps a firm grip on Dew, looking up to find him completely enthralled.

He’s fucking beautiful laid before her with a hand on his chest, so near his heart, and the other tucked behind his head. He’s breathing heavy, wanting so damn bad for her to continue, she can tell.

So she does, lowering her attentions back to the flesh immediately in front of her as she moves to kiss his thighs with dragging lips along his hot skin.

Because he remains in the perfect position of legs sprawled, she takes the opportunity to bite the inside of his thighs, one and then the other, lingering at the sensitive skin there until he squirms.

She thinks herself so very lucky to be able to do this - continuing her love then, with a gentle squeeze on his jewels. And giving into her own temptation, she provides a quick kiss there before nibbling at the thin flesh in an unexpected way that leaves Dew incoherent above her.

He resumes the moaning, this time in a foreign tongue and it gets louder when he gets the underside of his dick licked long and hard from base to tip.

Selene considers the moment, feeling that the time has come to finally finish him, so with lips hovering above the tip of Dew’s cock, she looks at him - waiting for the eye contact again before she gives her final command.

“Hold my hair so you can watch me, baby.”

—————

Dew feels like he’s entered a new realm, so close to disbelief that his dream woman could actually be before him saying all these sexy things, doing all this dirty shit.

He can barely think, much less breathe when his hands move of their own accord to find her hair.

He’s so lustful as he bunches the thickness of it into a fist, so intent now to hold it up so he can die over the sight of her beautiful face sucking the fuck out of his cock.

And unholy shit, she absolutely does - taking him so deep with a hand braced on his thigh, squeezing with digging nails into him when he begins to fuck her mouth harder.

Dew thinks she’s an angel, everything he actually doesn’t deserve, but either way, he’s about to come and its all because of Selene.

His fingers brush some fallen hair gently off her face, trying desperately now to hold onto the moment as he touches her adoringly. Ultimately, his grip loosens just as his body goes tense and the words leave his mouth without thought, everything he’s thinking, unfiltered in their sincerity.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, I can’t believe you’re real… I am….sooo…fuckkkkk.”

He’s beyond death when she blocks his motion to pull out at the last moment, and he’s forever amazed with wonder over her as she takes his release.

Dew actually thinks Selene the most gorgeous being in existence as his warm liquid floods her mouth. Its so damn hot for him to see the way she swallows all of him.

And he thinks its entirely possibly that he’s met his match now, although he’s still struggling to comprehend all the nasty she’s exhibited.

He’s obsessed with it, and the way he feels, what he’s just experienced and witnessed from her.

Unable to hold his head up any longer, Dew collapses back onto the pillows once again, moving his hands from Selene’s hair in the process to cover his own face.

He attempts to consider the nature of this encounter, but he’s still so amazed, to the point that he doesn’t even know what the fuck life is anymore.

He’s breathless and overwhelmed by her - everything that they’re sharing.

—————

She gets it, giving him time to revel in the occurrence and fully feel the impact of his release - that after effect of pleasure that so often lingers. Its beautiful and she prolongs it in the following minutes with sweet kisses on his skin, all the sensitive parts too, before finally moving up to sit back on her heels.

Her jaw is happy for the reprieve and she gives a breathy sigh, proud of her work as she runs a hand up and down his thigh. She’s patient in the wait for Dew, so content to be with him in this way, to have done this for him.

It doesn’t take long for him to recover, and his quick movement draws her attention immediately when he sits up to claim her in a deep kiss, his passion more alive than ever. He devours her mouth thoroughly, finding barely a trace of himself left on her tongue before eventually pulling back again to stare with starry eyes.

“You are so perfect, how are you real?”

Selene can’t answer, its an impossible question. Even still, she’s beyond happiness at the pleasure he’s experienced, how he was so open to receive everything she had to give. And hearing Dew voice such things, what he clearly feels in her regard, and how it insinuates that she is of rare beauty, a perfection within his eyes, leaves her floored.

She loves herself, but never to the extent that Dew is inadvertently forcing her to consider. Its truly everything she’s been needing, and she’s so grateful for him. The only way she can think to respond is with another kiss.

She leans in, bracing a hand on his chest as she seeks more of his mouth. She sighs into him, dreamy as fuck at the start of his own warm hands skimming along her chest at the wide opening of the shirt she wears.

It’s already so unbuttoned from earlier.

They’re both aware of the missing buttons, and its enough to make Dew smile against her mouth - something she absolutely loves - as his fingers find the top button. He begins undoing the few that remain and once done, he motions for her to straddle him with a pull at her hips.

Its clockwork now as he helps to reposition her legs around him with a caring touch as she lowers to sit on his lap. Good Satan, he fucking loves when they’re like this - how he can feel so much of her with all the skin to skin contact.

He knows now that this is something that would move her to blush, and it does, although he can’t understand why in consideration of everything she’s just done. But as with so many other things, this contradicting quality that she seems to possess is fast becoming one of many that he’s finding he loves.

And she feels so damn good pressed up against him, all that womanly goodness between her legs thats currently wetting his abdomen…

He’s addicted to it, thinking as much when he pushes his shirt off one of her shoulders to replace with his lips in so many open mouthed kisses over her glorious skin.

Dew gives special attention to her neck and the underside of her jaw as well, intent to leave more marks upon her lovely form as he squeezes her bare ass, coaxing her into a slow grind against his hard body.

—————

Everything he does works to heat Selene’s blood and she goes willingly under his spell again, feeling so fucking good when she wraps her arms around his neck. She lives for the contact, of being able to hold onto him as he works to unravel her well intentioned plans - all meant to spoil him.

But its clear that Dew wants to give too.

This is apparent when he draws back to open the space between their bodies again, just enough so that he can pull the shirt fully off her shoulders to hang loosely from her elbows. And his intentions are unmistakable when he bends his head then, pressing his lips to her naked chest in another slow burn.

Dew begins to feast.

She’ll never get over the hungered nature of his bites and how very dedicated he is with his mouth, the way he latches onto her so fiercely.

It drowns her - holding his nape, electrified with each pass of his teeth and hot tongue. He goes on forever, knowing how needy she’s becoming when she begins the gentle squeezes and light scratches on his back and shoulders.

He’s continuous, unyielding until she interrupts his love - knowing its of a serious nature when she takes his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes again. She’s so fucking lovely when she whispers his name, how it comes from her breathlessly.

“Dew, goddamn you. I want you so much.”

She doesn’t wait for him to respond, saying all that she needs him to hear without expectation of a response other than by way of his kiss when she presses her lips back against his. Of course he doesn’t resist, receiving all the emotion she pours into the moment.

Its a startling amount, meant to convey to him how much she’s longed for this connection - an entire lifetime.

Its just something she feels in her heart, this absolute awareness that she’s giving him every part of herself, trusting that he won’t break her, them and what they have. But regardless, Selene knows she’ll always take a chance with Dew, that he’s worthy of such consideration in light of what they’ve shared.

The decision is a definitive one.

—————

Its true.

Even for Dew, everything moves towards transcendence in his growing realization of whats really between them - how it isn’t just about the sex, but so much more now, although thats amazing too. And because he’s insatiable in the matter, he doesn’t wait for a cue, nor does he ask her permission before moving his hand over her ass to grab himself.

He pushes into her dripping cunt without preamble, hard and ready as fuck for her again. She’s not unwelcoming to the invasion by any means, although it takes her off guard enough to break from their hungry kiss for a much needed intake of breath.

Dew revels in her wet warmth, the way she spreads to accommodate him as she slowly lowers herself more fully on his cock. He could die, but instead, he takes the opportunity to voice a truth thats been building within him for some days now.

He hopes his words will comfort her, that they will reach deep in a way that diminishes any doubts she might feel about him. She has to accept his sincerity, all the implications behind his words. Its imperative because he needs more of her and he needs it now.

“Babe, you HAVE me. Now trust me.”

—————

Her heart is racing at his words, the intense look that he gives at the same time she feels his hand return to her ass. She can’t look away, forever entranced as she begins a slow fuck on his cock - one he wordlessly demands with the pressure he reinstates on her backside, urging her movements.

Fuck!

He gives a squeeze, making her feel so wanted with his arms wrapped around her waist so tight, pulling them impossibly closer together. And she can’t get over the sensation of having her naked chest pressed to his, the contrast of all their physical differences or the way his piercings tease against her own nipples.

Its heavenly, so fucking ridiculous how feminine he makes her feel over this particular contact when they’re in the throes of overwhelming passion. She fleetingly reflects on it, all the trust, but her eyes still go wide when Dew begins to tease his fingers along her taint in exploration.

Its a newer sensation, one that ignites her in a profound way when he starts spreading the shared wetness between their bodies over her asshole, lubricating the area with obvious intent.

Selene knows whats up, giving him a panicked look when he probes lightly against this opening. She’s not opposed to it, but its entirely different - a first for her and because of that, she begins to feel the stirring onset of reservation.

Even still, she can’t seem to slow her thrusts on his cock, highly aware of how her body continues to seek more of what he’s offering, moving of it’s own accord although her brain is throwing red flags. Then she remembers his assurance, all the adoration she feels when she gets lost in his eyes and she knows she wants this.

It’s enough, but she’s further sold by Dew’s words and she dies blissfully at the stretch of him slowly inserting his finger in her.

“Baby, you’re going to love this.”

And she fucking does, lost in the moment as he plays on so many of her nerves. The additional touch heightens everything she feels and its so unexpected, so fucking incredible as he eases further into her with a calculated pressure.

They continue on, building up from a slow burn again and the sensation becomes phenomenal. The act supersedes her expectations, moving her to feel impossibly closer to him - to fucking anyone - than ever before.

Its beautiful and she almost wants to sob at how tight everything is now, how both her and Dew can basically feel every ridge and vein of his dick more intensely as they fuck. And he just keeps giving, burying his face against her neck to attack with love bites while she rides him harder, pulling him in further.

Its so good, everything he promised and she’s explosive when he takes her over the edge, all trembling body and unfiltered cries.

He joins her shortly thereafter.

—————

Dew is forever welcoming to all the kisses Selene gives him as they hold each other in the aftermath.

Feeling sated and a bit weak, she eventually loosens her hold to a casual lay of her arms around his shoulders, for which Dew accommodates - providing stabilization when she lowers her head to rest on his shoulder.

He kisses against her forehead then, anticipating the collective shudder of her body when he slowly removes his finger from her. He does so with great care, basically melting when reaches out to turn his face towards her for another kiss - slow, and drugging.

They break the silence a time later when Selene sits upright again, lifting her face to meet his, but they’re both slow to untangle and Dew stays nestled within awhile longer.

“Nice shirt, by the way”, he teases, absently reaching out to play at the fabric as he studies her beauty. “You smell like me…I like it.”

Her response is immediate and her eyes are smiling. She begins to feel warm again.

“I like YOU.”

He’s glad for it, feeling rather impressed with his skill and the shock he brings back to her when he pulls his naughty finger in his mouth, tasting it with a long drag before her eyes.

“Dew! YOU ARE SUCH a dirty fuck, I can’t with you.”

She pushes away then, moving off of him just as she feels the color of her flush begin to spread along her body. But when she rolls onto her back, she’s laughing, and Dew is there a second later - pulling her close again with playful threats to lick her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sincere thank you again to all who have read, commented and/or left kudos on this work. I have so much appreciation <3 Stay safe, everyone!


	21. sacrifice the flame.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baths with ghouls.

After several minutes of rolling around in bed, Selene eventually surrenders to receive the kiss that Dew's been desperate to give her from his filthy mouth. She finds the "give in", as with most things involving him, to be no great feat. And she can't think of a single reason why she would deny herself or him the pleasure of so many private moments that they're creating to be entirely their own.

She loves how free she is with him, getting handsy again over his body as their combined desire threatens to overflow like so many times before.

Despite the physical tenderness of Selene’s own, very apparent to her now from their continuous sexual activity, she’s also aware of how insatiable she continues to be for Dew.

It’s an extent she feels could rival his.

It makes her selfless with her pain, finding it trivial in many ways. The temporary signs of her discomfort are all so easily overridden by her greater need to be close with him in every way. Even despite the bruises and scratches, the soreness and her burning lips, she craves him endlessly. 

She’s spiraling in the way one in love does, and its completely unexpected that she'd be experiencing what she is, especially given the circumstance - how she's found herself in this strange new world. But even that concept is a half truth, for she's ever-aware that she was brought here because of Dew, breathing only because he had put life back into her.

Its such a startling realization when it hits her, and it comes in waves.

Oftentimes, it remains too heavy a topic to broach, at least for now - in the midst of such enchantment with the bond they've begun to forge.

In the days since she woke, every moment compiled has been profound, even in the times of simplistic conversation of lighthearted banter that they so often ease into effortlessly, she's begun to recognize that elusive type of love.

Unconditional.

She’s never felt that for someone in a romantic way, but she knows of its existence. She feels it every time she looks at him.

Her heart does flips and she sighs heavier than she should, giving away so much. It’d be impossible to miss, but while she knows Dew to be perceptive, his emotional processes vary from what she’s accustomed to, and she can’t always read him.

Irregardless, Selene can't deny that she wants him, although in that same breath, a part of her also deeply loathes that she needs him. As such, it begins to nag in a harrowing way if she allows the concept of losing a part of her identity consume her.  
  
In truth, he’s not stripped her of her independence or asked this of her. It’s just a tempestuous insecurity surfacing at a moment’s notice.

But really, what Selene actually IS is “new”.

And like all things now, everything encompassing them together - the time and place - it compels her towards recognition of her emotions. 

In many ways, it feels like being reborn.

It seems absurd, like something a human brain might reject, but she doesn’t, just as she can't shirk the plethora of feelings towards Dew.

It’s madness, but it’s true:

That he, a ghoul - a being she'd never known actually existed until now, would be the one she'd want to belong to.

—————

She feels the commitment to be imminent, beyond a boundary of time, which in itself is such a loose idea. But if there was ever going to be anything she was certain of, it was that she cared for him deeply.

It all seemed so incredibly fated, and whether he shared that belief or not, she couldn't envision any other way she might have survived the end of the world.

Even that admittance comes as less of a shock when she considers all the care of Dew - how he's been, wanting to know and learn so many aspects of her with an intense measure of curiosity.

He’s maintained a genuine quality, keeping everything at face value in a way that comforts while encouraging her to be open, more fearless.

Whether he’s aware or not, he’s contributing to the evolution of Selene and her transformation into a person she thinks could be both the best and most flawed imagined.

But it reminds her of her strong-willed nature, of how unbroken she is now and the power she holds with every breath she takes. She's so capable, and she knows she needs to own this life - the ultimate second chance she’s been given.

She feels indebted, although Dew is never an instigator to this train of thought. Nonetheless, she really does owe him so much, hoping she deserves all his kindness and everything he's providing.

She's really falling in love with him, and even if it seems too soon, it feels right. And that intuition always leaves her to kiss him longer, harder, as the tendencies of their relationship forever move them towards a life less ordinary.

All the notions interrupt ideal routines of comfort, but she knows comfort is not in line with growth, and so it’s quickly become appropriate to embrace the adverse in order to fully know who she is.

And by doing so, she's gradually learning to relinquish some ownership of herself with her trust in Dew.

He makes her want to lose control. 

Its a stark contrast to her natural affinity towards independence, and while she oddly feels like she’s found her equal in him, a part of her wants to actually be owned, as well. Its ridiculous, something she's nowhere near ready to admit as their hearts remain guarded on certain fronts, but hers is definitely more chipped away at in prep for the fall.

Its imminent at this rate, with their dynamic, that age old pairing of opposites attracting. What they have is explosive, and she’s so fucking in. 

—————

Selene thinks Dew must feel this way too, that it should probably be clear as day now in consideration of all he's done and said. But despite that, she can't chance the way he feels when he doesn't vocalize it directly.

Its not too far of a reach though with all the indicators evident. He’s really engaged with her, and even despite what she's learned of him so far, stubborn personality of prideful hellfire and all, he remains mostly sweet.

She also thinks it wouldn’t be uncommon for him to have struggles of his own in the matter - those internal battles that he keeps close to the vest where deepening feelings towards others are concerned.

In fact, it’s entirely possible that on some level, he's found it difficult to process what he’s feeling too. She at least hopes he’s experiencing emotions aligned with her own.

And if so, it has to be new for him - something he'd be working through just as she is, especially since he’s been so devoted... Which also seems uncharacteristic - a fire ghoul maintaining a singular interest.

But clearly (and luckily) he has, and she finds relief in that. Its what she needs to know in her heart, because although its only been a mere few days knowing him, she thinks it might actually feel like an eternity for Dew in terms of commitment.

No, his interest in her definitely hadn't waned. In fact, the opposite seemed to be true and she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t also carry a sense of pride in how very present he continued to be.

He appears to appreciate so many aspects of her, ones that she'd never gave much thought to or previously been regaled by. But Dew was different in every way, and that was part of the discovery, she assumed - that in sharing herself, piece by piece to bare everything buried within, she was also finding herself.

It all transfers by way of value, that she's somehow a rarity of sorts to him. And Dew demonstrates these things uniquely, sometimes in surprisingly humanistic ways one might not think a ghoul would - especially one as impulsive, rebellious, and haphazard as him.

He’s full of surprises in both the extreme and the domestic. And in doing these things, she's learning that they’re not so incredibly different.

That fact, along with many others, begin to consume her more, imagining something deeper with him, wanting it to be forever. 

Really, the only thing she has to lose at this point is her heart, and the likeliness of that occurring becomes more solidified every time she looks at him, as she does now, over to where he lays beside her.

—————

Dew surprises Selene when he resists her pull for him to roll on top of her. Kissing at her pretty pout to appease her, he's quick with the explanation so as to avoid conflict when he suggests a bath. And its without pretense, aware of all the sex that clings to them both, thinking more realistically of how it might be appropriate now.

Because as much as he loves it, he wants to take care of her, understanding that keeping her clean and healthy is part of it. He’s also intuitive of her needs, somehow knowing that she’d insist they continue the intimacy even though its plain to see that her body needs a rest.

He's decisive with his intent to pivot and instead spoil Selene with a new affection in his consideration of the rest she actually requires, although won’t admit. He adores her for it, continuously impressed by her determined strength, the unending gifts she provides to him in return as a lover.

Dew is honest and forward when he reaches down between her legs to smear so much of their cum, everything a slick wet along her soft skin.

He leaves an impossible mess on her thighs, and the state of his sheets is no less deniable to the fact. They’ll require cleaning, as does she, and he tells her as much - suddenly excited at the prospect of bathing with her despite his love/hate relationship with water.

“I’ve made such a mess, baby. Time to clean you up.”

—————

And Dew thinks he’s died upon leading her into the bathroom a few short minutes later.

After turning the water on to begin filling the tub, he turns back to find Selene removing her(his) shirt. And while it takes substantial effort for him to actually lose his breath, he does, watching as she stands naked before him, under so many lights that confirm the unending perfection of everything he'd already assumed she was.

In fact, its the first true sight he’s had of her like this - bare and unimpeded by the dancing light of candle flame, although that had made her beautifully demure in the shadow cast of fire.

But this is an entirely new level, something that increases his want of her to greater heights.

It almost seems impossible. He’s never wanted someone as much, never physically ached as he does now for her, especially in seeing all that she possesses - every line and curve of her, all the beauty marks.

Dew is attuned to her evolving confidence, how its seems she wants him to see her now, in all the ways. And he does, he really fucking does, feeling it necessary to remind her every chance he can with his words and his touch.

It can’t wait.

He walks back to her, completely naked himself with cock and tail swinging, and zero fucks to give. Delving his fingers into her hair, he crushes his mouth against hers in a way that isn't punishing, but is fully immersive and claiming.

He feeds from her lips in a needy way, sighing with contentment at how great her skin feels, smooth and cool to the touch, an absolute heaven pressed up against all his hardness.

“Fucking goddess of a woman, I want to kiss you everywhere.”

Then he's kissing her again, just for awhile longer, keeping her as he likes - captive within his arms and taken by his searching mouth as the bathtub continues to fill.

Eventually he pulls away, and its unceremonious as he makes his retreat without another word to turn off the running water. But he doesn’t turn around in his retreat, instead keeping eyes on her even when he goes to step into the tub, lowering himself into the water.

The invitation is unspoken, with beckoning eyes of his saying everything he has no need to vocalize. 

He considers the water temperature while he waits for her, thinking it adequate, although his opinion is probably unreliable in these matters.

He’s barely begun mulling over this when she comes to him effortlessly, at will and gorgeous, looking as inviting as he feels when he reaches out to offer his hand for her to join.

—————

Luckily, Selene enjoys hot baths.

Like Dew, she prefers showers, but for the purpose of a relaxing soak and any excuse for them to remain together like this, neither one of them complains. This is exactly what they'd been craving, another degree of intimacy.

With the combined heat of their bodies, it soon becomes an indulgent experience in the way they press together with Selene relaxing against Dew’s chest once she’s settled in the water.

They prolong the time, their limbs loosening from tension while he keeps them warm in the tranquility.

She seems to meld into him, doing a slight doze in the midst of the lovely comfort of being held.

She needs this, all the simplicity of the moment and the way he talks low against her ear about everything and nothing at all. And for Dew, he’s just glad to be in the position of providing such security for her.

It gives him a sense of purpose, and he works at adjusting to the newness of being the recipient and giver of so much…devotion. He can't deny the effect, how accustomed he's becoming to it.

He really feels a plethora of things for her, some still greatly undefined, but he doesn't mull on it - a terrible habit, he knows. Instead, he steers the one-sided conversation to a new topic that stirs her back to life - his odd history with water. Its hard to explain, the way he's miraculously a dual element, but he tries none the less in his desire for Selene to know more about him.

Dew begins to share this with her, small pieces of his life, finding that its easier to be more open without the distraction of her staring into his eyes with her own gorgeous ones. And he’s incredibly touched by how much she cares, and the intensity with which she always listens.

Selene is suddenly awake again, fully alert now that he's begun speaking more of himself, and she hangs on every word as he continues.

For him, its probably one of the most random places imaginable to figuratively be baring pieces of his “soul”, but its cathartic with her as his captive audience - empathetically engaged, curious, but not pushy.

He wants more of this, loving the sexiness of being in a confined wet space with a gorgeous woman between his legs and also because of the feeling of acceptance he's coming to recognize when he's with her. 

With each other, they can simply be themselves, its so obvious - its actually the very thing thats making it effortless for them to be together, and the feels wash over them both like a much needed salve to their spirit (if Dew has one).

—————

Very soon, they're creating steam again, both literal and figuratively as his body temperature rises to heat the water, and in turn, Selene as well.

He’s talking about his favorite ring of Hell when his hands come out of idleness to rove across her front. He digs greedily into her flesh because he can’t help himself, even despite knowing he’s already responsible for so many bruises that now adorn her limbs, all wrought from his passion.

And he’s so aware of the way she invites his touch, not lost on the exaggeration of her back arch, a calculated move to fill his hands when he grabs onto her tits and begins kneading them. Or the subtle grind of her ass into all his endowments, a move that temporarily interrupts his train of thought.

He quickly abandons his sermon on the inaccuracies of Dante’s Inferno, instead opting to shut up and occupy his mouth in more useful ways. Reaching up, he moves her hair aside to lick at the droplets of water speckled along her neck and shoulder, skimming his lips over the smooth skin as he dries the area with kisses.

Its as lovely as it is hot, and Dew’s unsuspecting when she turns her face a moment later, looking back to him with a silent offering of her lips. Of course he obliges, hungrier than ever as he swoops in to devour her mouth.

It doesn’t take long for Selene to adjust, suddenly needing to return the kiss to his mouth with just as much fervor as he always displays. She feels him loosen his hold on her, something she capitalizes on when she turns into him more fully to accommodate the connection.

The intensity explodes when Dew feels Selene snake her hand between their bodies to begin stroking him, and suddenly he thinks he prefers baths more than showers.

—————

They’ve been kissing, the main culprit of interruption amid their half-dedicated attempt to dress following the bath, and after Dew had allowed her private use of the shared space.

During that time, he had reverted to his closet for a fresh set of clothes, overthinking his wear in the process as he contemplated his mostly black garment offering.

And while it had taken some time to consider, he ultimately tamed the impulse to "mix it up" with something other than his typical standard of black attire. Because really, no other clothing could compare, and he oddly loved this ensemble the most (when he had to wear anything at all), forever admiring everything from the fine cut and fit to the small intricacies of design.

It always felt timeless, paired perfectly and put together in a way he rarely felt he, himself, was. So it was no challenge at all in grabbing them and begin dressing, although he had decided to present the look in a less formal way, specifically without the tailcoat, undershirt, tie or suspenders. Those items just weren't needed at the moment.

In addition to that, Dew had also opted to roll up his sleeves to bare arms, leaving the shirt unbuttoned at the throat in a calculated move that he’s silently thanking himself for now as a willing participant in Selene's post-bath kiss.

It’s deliciously slow and languid in the pace she’s set - one he’s inclined to follow, forever hyped at the chance to demonstrate his skillful mouth. And it’s with every intention of his own to make it last, so that he can continue reveling in the glide of her fingertips caressing against his naked chest.

He loves being petted like this, fully aware that the heat of his skin in also seering her every touch. And despite her resurfacing hunger, he's noted how she maintains control, even in the midst of her indulgent claim - evidently thrilled to feel all the new parts that he's allowing by the convenience of his half-buttoned shirt.

Its enough to make him want to lose control, although he doesn't.

He's truly hooked on the newness, this slow unraveling into greater depths with Selene - to places that until now, have remained greatly unexplored. He's never really been like this, never kissed so softly, nor so deep, never wanted to “make love” - still finding the concept a bit absurd, but something he'd wanted to try with Selene anyway.

Its the new normal in how he's beyond willing to realize every idea with her these days, compelled towards the experimentation, drawn to the revelations of both her and himself.

The concept is terrifying, but its also overshadowed strongly by his growing addiction for her attention - how it increases at a rapid pace to leave him irrevocably spoiled as the subject of her affection. And although its also slightly alarming to admit even this to himself, Dew is quick to acknowledge the sense of calm that also somehow manages to wash over him by extension of just her touch.

—————

It felt like sorcery, how she was giving everything of herself without actually pressuring him to do the same in return. But even still, he wasn't idiotic to think she deserved anything less than what she gave, which for all intents and purposes would have certainly been all of him. It was something he wanted to be capable of, thinking it must have seemed obvious, as he wasn't keeping things as deeply buried as he had with other before her.

And Dew felt like he was getting there, encouraged by all the moments of the past few days, how unexpected and perfect they'd been. He was certain she was no stranger to this opinion either. 

It consoled him to think she was experiencing all the same things in her heart that he was beginning to feel too. Especially when he held her in his arms, kissed her, and definitely when he lost himself in her, while the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

—————

All these unspoken truths continue to wash over him like a fiery rain, the best kind. Its so refreshing, weighted with risk, but necessary.

He relaxes further into their current kiss, forever heated by the sensation of her lips pressing softly against his own before she unceremoniously delves her tongue to lick against his. Her fingers begin to move in a familiar dance along the structural planes of his mask, alighting another greedy bone within him.

The mask - he's really starting to hate it, whereas he hadn't before. Now, he recognizes all the impeding aspects of it, the inconvenient barrier between him and this beautiful girl that he wants more than anything. And speaking of wants, he specifically wants to remove it at times like this when he feels utterly robbed of her affectionate touch, and also when he wants to lay into her mouth forcefully to her own so he may drown her with his fire kisses.

Dew is also experiencing some burgeoning guilt over the way it continues to mark her face, every indication of their roughness. And its something that wouldn't bother him otherwise, if the collision had been brought from a roughen passion between flesh and bone. 

But most of all, more than all these things - he wants his identity and to fully feel his ownership of it, which just isn’t something he can trick himself into believing exists as long as he remains somewhat anonymous. He loathes the predicament - how it should be such a simple thing, and yet- its something he can’t find the strength to rebel against.

He thinks she minds less, but its so clear she wants to see him - always so telling in the way she focuses so intently on his eyes, wanting to connect with him there, rather than losing him to her own reflection. In that way, Dew knows she’s wishing just as well as he is for her to know him for the ghoul he really is.

Its such a sincere thing, something that leaves them both frustrated, yet respectful to their reality of this and the possible repercussions should he go against the Clergy’s orders of removing it. And despite his massive ego, he also knows deep down that she’s too good for him, but he wants her anyway. Impossibly so.

He wants with every fibre of his being for her to belong to him, regardless of the fact that she’s too ethereal, too perfect for her own good, and its enough for him to really begin loathing the fabric that his life as a nameless ghoul has become woven into. 

It leaves an invisible barrier between them, where he wants none now with the unknowing temptress before him. He's just fucking hooked, the purity of her too real - a personified ambrosia, and feeling lovey again, the words soon escape him when she detaches from his lips to take in air.

—————

“Are you always this sweet?”

“Mmm, what do you mean?”

Dew scoffs as he comes out of the spell, unsure if she’s really that oblivious to his meaning or just baiting him. It could go either way, but he guesses the latter and waits to see where it leads with his ambiguous response.

“You know what I mean…”

Or maybe she doesn’t, because she pulls back then and Dew notes the way her dark eyes begin to search his for comprehension. Although confused, she also looks amused, completely pleased to find him in another moment of softness. It makes him antsy.

“Dew, you think I’m sweet?”

She’s teasing now, eyes sparkling as she puts Dew on the spot. He's aware that she's acting on endearment more than anything, and while he’s not entirely out of his element in admitting this, the direction of their conversation isn’t really where he’d wanted this to go. The confession had been an indulgent one, impulsively vocalized...why was she putting it under a microscope?

He thinks it best to sidestep the question, not wanting to mull too hard, and instead reverts to some teasing of his own. He does this both because its second nature given his personality, but also because he's not fully ready to vocalize everything he's feeling for her.

In facts, the depth is immense, worrisome to a degree, but he snaps out of it quickly to pivot. Its something he’s become a master of, a defense mechanism of sorts when he feels the oncomings of uncharacteristic embarrassment - which doesn’t happen often, but still exists.

“You KNOW I do.”

He moves to detach from their casual embrace, suddenly needing some distance, and he's relieved that she doesn’t press further.

—————

In fact, she picks up on Dew’s uneasiness straight away and because its not her intention to make him uncomfortable, she drops the topic entirely. But because she doesn’t want him to feel like he has to leave her in order to avoid deeper conversations where feelings towards the other are concerned, she reaches out to grab his hand.

“Don’t be like that, Sweetheart. Please stay, we don’t have to talk.”

The way she whispers to him is a decadent combination - innocent tone, leveled with a suggestive undercurrent implied. Its a weakness, one that raises Dew's internal temperatures to a degree in which his body should be giving off smoke. And he feels that heat rush through him now, bristling a bit at the effect.

Her admiring stare calls him back, providing the needed effect that renews his desire and dislodges him out of all the temporary bouts of insecurity.

He can’t resist her ever, but especially when she’s this way, and its so fucking evident how much he thrives on her need to have him too - that she makes it seem that they could do anything. It excites them both, and Dew meets her eyes again, this time with challenge, aware that she’s now holding her breathe as he moves into her again.

Theres so much anticipation, enough to overwhelm the sense, which he fully intends to do when he methodically backs her against the vanity. And while it would have been easy to lift her onto his sink countertop, highly desirable to have her legs wrapped around him again, he keeps her standing instead.

—————

Dew can hear the steady rhythm of her heart, inclined to convince himself its beating only for him.

In the moment, he just needs her existence to be for this reason alone, and he becomes obsessed over the idea, while simultaneously weakening her with the soft touch of his long fingers along the side of her neck.

She watches him as he studies his own hand’s descent down her body, all the features of her that he’s now seen and felt, tasted and adored. And he’s assured that he’s back in control when he sees her swallow nervously at the suspense of his pace, knowing how much these simple touches affect her.

Damn this gorgeous girl.

He still can’t wrap his head around the contradiction that she poses with her mannerisms and her words, the way she makes him feel and everything they’ve done together. It all confounds him, thinking it beyond comprehension that anyone could really be so absolutely fucking wonderful - the ultimate dream.

Dew thinks she has to know some semblance of her effect, that she must know exactly what she’s doing when she moves her own hands up to graze along his sides then. 

He stands firm, but he's non-resistance, loving the feel of her touch on him - how it always moves in exploration as if his body was a majestic wonder. Maybe it is.

She even goes as far as to remedy the slight space issue, pulling him with pressing hands on his back so that their chests are pressed against each other in that crushing way she loves so much. And he's not even sorry when the purrs begin of their own volition, giving everything he's feeling away by this natural reaction.

Taking advantage of the closeness, he wraps his arms around her neck, and its a lovely entrapment they have on each other again.

He feels Selene’s arms tighten at his waist, the way her fingers begin a soothing rub against his back - its a touch he’s come to expect from her now, and she never disappoints. But while its everything he wants, it all just seems too easy, and because Dew is a stubborn shit, he doesn’t want to give in too quickly now.

He needs that challenge, at least some semblance of a taunt. His stubborn ass can't help himself, and he executes his plan well when he doesn’t immediately oblige her with the kiss he'd set her up to expect.

Ultimately, he’ll always be elated by anything she’s willing to provide, as well of accept. And now more aware than ever, Dew is aware of all her capabilities, the vastness of her heart - how much fire she carries of her own. He’s felt it, witnessed it and he wants it now, needs her to work for it, so he plays his card.

“I dare you to take my breath away, I’d love to see you tr-”

Selene interrupts him, rolling her eyes as she reaches out again to wrap a hand around Dew's nape. She's done talking, making this abundantly clear when she forcefully pulls him to her.

“Just shut up so I can kiss you.”

And then she is, and Dew considers his breath stolen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been soooo slow with the writing lately 😭 Thx for sticking around ♥️


	22. you want this, you need this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pretty views, but none as pretty as you + Dew shares a new perspective.

Selene finally gets breakfast - another impressive spread of food from the offering of the Clergy kitchen with Dew’s over-exaggerated concept of how much humans actually eat.

She doesn’t complain though, moved as always by his generosity and conscious effort towards the domestic when he suggests they eat in one of the dining rooms. The consideration is appreciated, although anywhere would have been fine, and she hopes he’s realized that most of her happiness has actually stemmed from his presence, and less of the location.

In a way, she’d been banking on another counter-top picnic in the kitchen, like the evening before, finding those hours to be nothing less than perfection.

All the moments with Dew so far had really healed her, and those particular were fast becoming a fond memory to keep, perhaps even to hold onto for the uncertain times to come.

Even having passed now, the initial hours spent during their first true conversation remains important - a key indicator marking the establishment of a companionship she couldn't have dreamt. He’d put her at ease immediately, even when she probably should have felt the opposite of that.

Its defining, unforgettable, and it continues to evolve.

—————

Theres something so very poignant about their interactions, along with the undeniable chemistry.

Although she's not driven solely by her physical attraction to Dew, its ever-present and this morning at breakfast had been no exception when they'd moved into a new room that, like all the rest of the estate, was steeped in luxury and mystique.

It felt more like home for her with it’s light toned furnishings and breathtaking views of the courtyard beyond. The open greenery before them had even felt unreal, almost impossible to consider in light of the rest of the world still aflame. Thankfully, her brain kept blocking those images, somehow working to keep her present so as not to fall back into the trauma of those memories.

She suspected Dew had some magic hold here - when her thoughts turned down that burdened path. It was something she knew he must be doing out of kindness, which she appreciated. For as severe and unfiltered as Dew could be, he also always came through to her with care, and definitely before the endless blue would threaten to take her mind back to those dark places.

Somehow he had the foresight to act on this quickly.

Really, he had cast off much of that, seeking to replace it instead with things of wonder, including himself - all those attentions he wanted to provide.

And although the blooms of the garden had also presented a pretty picture while they ate, something beautiful to occupy one's mind with appreciation, he continued to remain the main focal point for her.

—————

Selene took many opportunities to look at him, forever aware of how "new" he still was to all her senses. From long limbs to perfect hands, amusing gestures and an overall cuteness when his “ghoul” would really begin to show, she couldn’t imagine ever knowing anyone as wonderful, as complicated or...as lovable.

She also hadn’t fully realized until then how impossible it actually seemed for Dew to stay still, finding him often talking with his hands or tapping a foot. Something he did in substantial tempo, enough to make those thin, but shapely thighs of his - thighs she’d kissed so thoroughly earlier in bed, jiggle.

Then there was his tail, something she usually failed to notice, even as odd and out of place as it was in terms of the ordinary. It also wasn’t incredibly idle during the course of their late morning meal, which made it’s existence more apparent with each minute that passed.

She’d caught glimpses of it in frequent motion as well, flitting off behind him, even when he repositioned to lounge more casually in his chair.

Eventually, he’d been brazen enough to prop both of his shoed feet onto the table with a loud clank - something she didn’t mind, but had silently wished to be her instead.

She’d wanted to be set up there by Dew...to be devoured by him.

—————

He was cute, kind of a mess, and she was kinda smitten by it all - especially in the way he indulged her in conversation, how it had been with the same amount of vigor as when he’d consumed the pancakes she’d hastily prepared.

Dew had even gone as far as to steal the remaining ones off of Selene’s plate too, using more than half the bottle of syrup on them in his excitement over this new gastronomic discovery.

The intake had been less concerning than comical, precious even, but she rather thought that he already possessed an ample reserve of energy, enough to rival the additional sugar that would soon kick into his system.

When he crashed, she thought, it would be hard. Even still, his now super obvious sweet tooth was fast becoming a thing to be adored, especially in the way it inadvertently personified itself, while also reflecting a very specific part of his character.

To Selene, he really was sweet, amongst other things, keeping her engaged, spellbound by the candidness of their conversation, particularly when he returned to the topic of Ghost and Satan’s campaign.

And he’d been open with her about all his tendencies towards insufferable behavior since basically his creation, how he’d partaken in actions on and off the road too that were probably unspeakable by human standard. However, his deliverance of this inside information wasn’t meant as a means to warn her, just facts.

Dew knew she wasn’t afraid, but that she might wonder on a variety of topics that they’d not yet covered in full. And he was happy to fill her in where he could, preferring that approach over indirectly leading her astray towards an open interpretation about who he was, what the Clergy stood for and what they did.

In return, she had assured him, possibly more deviantly than intended, that she was no innocent herself and that not many topics existed that would be too shocking for her. Which, of course, Dew knew.

He had seen and experienced enough of the woman she was in just their short amount of time together to recognize how foolish it would have been to doubt this statement.

He doesn’t question it, because damn, she really is a vixen, utter perfection in and out of bed. But not only that, he sees the strength of her, beautifully wrapped with brave resilience. It’s a thing to be admired, and he does.

Yet, there’s still a true pureness about her that, to no fault of her own and one that Dew can’t shake, tends to relocate him to the cycle of feeling unworthy.

He’s still experiencing random bouts of irrational thought - ideas of how he is actual trash, convinced that she’ll wake up one day to finally see that, be disgusted by him and leave.

And unfortunately, the insecurity continues to subtly rip at him like a growing pest.

It’s present even as he enjoys the beauty before him, which is only really possible because she makes it manageable - enough to effortlessly lessen his negative thoughts by several degrees.

Luckily Dew, as a proud and persistent ghoul, also remains weary of insecurity’s true strength. He’s more or less convinced it doesn’t hold the actual weight of influence that it threatens one to believe, possessing a strength adequate enough to intervene with all the good he’s experiencing.

That undeniable fondness - all the feelings that he’s now harboring, many of which embedded in his heart long before she’d even awoken, were strong.

And they continued to grow over the course of the morning.

—————

She’d nearly fallen off her chair with laughter.

Dew had seen the falter, even as he’d carried on about his unending anger when first summoned from Hell - an interest she’d been upfront about and openly asked him to elaborate on.

Truthfully, he loved that she wanted to know how it happened, plus all the implication that came with the request - that she fully believed all this to be true now, despite logic and what humanity had conditioned her to believe.

Of course the topic was serious, but he kept things real, most effectively when describing the way it had felt coming from Hell, because that too, she had asked.

“Like I’d been fucked in the ass. WITH FIRE”

Even as the words left his mouth, Dew recognized the absurdity, even his indecency, although he didn’t have the capacity to be ashamed.

And looking at Selene, he could plainly see she lacked qualms to his choice of words too, which really encouraged him. It leant itself to the reminder that once again, she was accepting to all his quirks - those odds and ends that made up who he was.   
  
He wouldn’t have cared so much about being judged, truly.

With his heart already pretty hardened, it was easy to cast off, but because she didn’t show signs of this either, he paid more attention.

It surprisingly meant a great deal to him - how everything she was and everything she’d done so far had been the absolute opposite of what he was used to or had grown to expect.

But she was different. Of this, he was quite aware, and he didn’t waste time by giving it a second thought to how he wanted to make this known to her.

—————

He was melting, warm in a delicious way that kept leaving his heart to race more than usual. He really was fucking deprived on these lines, and had clearly been missing out most of his life.

Without a word, he’d removed his legs from the table, straightened and reached out to her with intention of pulling her onto his lap.

And things just got better for Dew when she came willingly, all smiles while opting to straddle him for that intimate physical contact, before taking his face in her hands.

She’d been so ready to give him the kiss they both craved, and he stayed hungry for it - tasting endless over the lingerings on her sweet tongue.

The moment had been precious in its oddity, something kindred that left Dew feeling more at ease than he had for sometime.

And over the course of holding and kissing her in their cozy setting, the realization also came of how much he’d truly missed simply being at home too.

It was nice to be back, and more valuable still, to be within the privacy of a silent headquarters with the most beautiful human he’d ever met.

He counts himself lucky for this, her as well, in reflection of the grand scheme - the reality of all those dangers before, some of which Selene still remains unaware of.

Even deeper, although this is also unknown to her, its possible that neither one of them would have actually been alive to see this day if they hadn’t been brought together by whatever force, or chance.

Its not lost on Dew that the timing and circumstance had been essential - how he’d been sulking for days, deeper than ever before, so fucking ready to fall off the Earth’s surface right up until the second he’d found Selene…

And now that he had this, had her, he didn’t know how he would ever be without, much less imagine not being here for her.

—————

She felt so good, still on his lap, the moment all too right, as every time was when she encouraged his touch - granting him the ownership he desired in order to revel openly upon her body with wandering hands.

He maintains the softness of their time in this room, still reflecting with humor on some of the crude topics, which comprised much of their conversation.

And staring back at Selene in the close proximity now, he returns her smile, adoring the colorful language she’s adopted from him as her fingers draw figures on the bare skin of his chest.

He’s content with the touch, adoring of her own attention to his body as he remains quiet and open, allowing her the freedom to do as she desires. But she eventually breaks the silence.

“Fucked in the ass by fire, huh?”

The sensation of her touch is lovely, but the filth from her mouth is everything, bringing Dew sharply back to the present from where he’d temporarily drifted in his comfort.

He has to move his hands down then, grabbing his favorite bits of hers to bring her closer against him. Its calculated, dying over that hot friction against his hardening dick and he drives the point home with a firm squeeze on her ass, wanting to remind her of their opportunities and all his honest desires.

“As you know, I happen to be a fire ghoul. Care to try sometime?”

“In your dreams, Dew”

She gives a laugh then, followed by a playful lick against his lips, which he thinks is possibly in an effort to steer away from the topic.

This is obvious as the blush is back again, something he’s taken with. It gives so much of her away - of desires she has too, but is still too timid to act on.

It’s promising enough, and Dew is determined to remedy this, to really begin empowering her with sexuality. He’s up for the challenge when she eventually pushes against him and effectively moves off his lap.

He rises soon after, joining to clear the table and fully aware of the way she’s now avoiding eye-contact with him. She’s really cute when she gets shy like this, and he can’t let this go so easy. He has to tease her.

“I’ll take that as a maybe, then.”

——————————

Dew surprises Selene when he volunteers to do the dishes, which she doubts he’s ever actually had to do in his entire life.

He’s still at the kitchen sink with his back to her when she reappears from the pantry, having put the remaining non-perishable items from breakfast away.

Its opportune, affording her the sightly view of his shoulders and arms, those gorgeous hands sudsy as he works the dishes clean. It leaves her to internally sigh over the elegant curve of his back, that cute tail and cuter ass.

She momentarily reflects on how magnificent he is without clothes, the feel of him and all the warmth, that power. It stays her only a second longer before she’s walking over to him, really fucking hoping she doesn’t catch him off guard with a knife in his hand.

Of course, she doesn’t, as Dew is hypersensitive with sound, so her far off steps are enough to elicit his acknowledgement of her presence back into the open space where he is.

He gives a soft “hey, you” over his shoulder at the sound of her approaching footsteps so she knows that he knows.

He continues the washing even as he anticipates her touch, wanting it again. And his wish is granted at the start of her wrapping her arms around his waist a few seconds later.

The press of her body into his from behind is something new, another instant favorite for him when she locks her hands together, resting them low. She leans further into him, placing kisses at the back of his neck with warm lips without preamble.

—————

Selene moves her lips to kiss Dew’s shoulders, unaware that he is equally enamored and confused by the nature of this gesture. More than anything, he wishes he was shirtless so as to really feel the touch of every soft press she’s providing directly to his skin.

What he does do to display his enjoyment is remove a wet hand from the water to squeeze gently at the locked hold she still has on him at his front. Then he’s hurrying to finish the damn cleaning.

Once done, he interrupts her sweet affection when he unceremoniously moves, turning within her arms in his need to face her again.

He accomplishes this, but with no assistance from Selene, as she doesn’t give him space nor unlock her arms from around him when he’s fully turned and looking at her. His expression seems different, unreadable really, but she’s rewarded with an eventual smile and a brilliant light in his eyes following her bold touch.

Venturing down, her fingers blindly find his tail, and taking it in hand, she gives a small squeeze and pull.

She doesn’t really know the sensation it’s giving him, but there’s a subtle color shift in his eyes that catches her attention as she continues her hold.

“New toy for you to play with?”

“Only if you enjoy it too.”

He knows she’s referring to her touch on this new body part, casually sweet with the inquiry of whether its acceptable for her to do this. And of course, it is! He wants this from her, just as he wants her, so damn much.

It becomes overwhelming, impossible for him to stay quiet now.

He’s in no way accustomed to such sincerity or consideration, finding himself fucking moved again over the way she actually gives a damn about him - what he wants and needs and loves, as if it were important. 

Maybe its a simplistic thing, but it means so much, more than he would have thought possible.

And all of her kindness continues to take him off guard, how unburdened it seems, offered without obligation in a natural reach to infiltrate his darkest recesses. And he knows he’s probably safe with her - that her actions aren’t laced with intention to change, hurt or manipulate him in some way.

He’s fucking certain of this as he begins to experience that strange and wonderful sensation again.

But he can’t put appropriate words to it, only thinking then to say what he feels and its what comes to fill the space around them.

—————

He glides his hands into her hair as his eyes begin to search again, taking their fill in an open study of her every feature. He gives a soft pull on her tresses, ensuring that she’s really seeing him when he says this, because he's about to split open a piece of his heart for her.

“You are truly stunning, and I still can’t believe you’re here…with me.”

The words hit hard, much like the stormy waves to a shore and Dew is her tempest with eyes now deepening to an unimagined hue of blue.

And Selene wonders how obvious the love in her eyes is as she looks back at him, thinking it should be impossible for him not to see. But even if that were true, she doesn’t leave anything to chance, knowing the moment is too important, and that he really needs to hear this, even if he won’t admit it.

“I can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else - only here, with you. Please know that.”

Its a heavy statement, something that Dew is aware of, especially coming from Selene.

Really, she shouldn’t want this or him, she should want what she’s lost, what she knew, and for her past to be restored. At least these are the things he imagines for her, thinking most humans would have this frame of mind, and he wouldn’t fault her if she did.

But he really can’t trick himself out of this reality, which is something that he’s capable of by his lack of a moral compass. He's glad for her admittance, and he’s unwilling to lie in order to side with the belief that she should want and need so many things, or people above him. He wants it to be him, and he could guess he'd be right if he had to.

She makes it easy though, abundantly clear actually, because when he looks at her, he sees all the truth of her words. And Dew feels it too in the way she continues her hold, clearly wanting to be so damn close to him.

Its then that he's reminded of what she’s just shared, that she wants this and needs him to know it. His response is breathless.

“I do”, then he’s leaning in to kiss her hard, carelessly bruising her lips again, as his hand fists and knots in her hair, tangling the softness between his fingers.

—————

Selene takes Dew’s kiss for her own, keeping a steady pressure on his back.

They begin to move then, with her pulling him in a calculated retreat to the opposite counter.

And he’s on cue when her back comes into contact with the cold marble, eventually halting their movements.

Effectively, his fingers release their hold on her hair to take grab at her hips, but he’s always slow to disengage his lips from her mouth and his tongue immediately misses the slick warmth of her own when he finally does.

He makes the compromise in order to assist her into a sitting position on the hard surface behind her, something he knows she's starting to love - being perched, although he sees it rather as her on a pedestal.

She deserves to be.

Once she's safely seated and settled, she wastes no time drawing him in again - doing so with possessive force by positioning her leg against the back of his. But in this moment, she's met with no resistance and Dew comes back into her hot and turbulent.

He moves fast, taking only a moment to push her hair back behind her shoulders for greater access to her chest and the view. Its perfectly obvious she’s not wearing undergarments, thank fuck, so he has to capitalize on it.

Dew leans in then to take a bite, nipping at her breasts through the thin fabric of her shirt - liking the casual ensemble she has going and all the benefits to him.

Its effortless to latch on while simultaneously beginning a trail with his long fingers along her inner thigh, finding the skin warm and getting hotter the closer he comes to her apex.

He keeps her on edge for a short while, but his mouth finds hers just as his intimate touch arrives. He’s swift with delving fingers, taking her breath again as he proceeds in touching the depth of her wetness.

“Fuck, woman. So damn hot.”

He’s proud as fuck, his ego expanding exponentially while he groans his satisfaction against her lips over her body’s response. It sends him to the edge, loving the hard evidence of what he does to her, the effect he has.

But she makes this clear too, and it’s completely unexpected, enough to make him want to come right then and there.

“All for you, baby.”

She moves her hips forward, daring his teasing fingers to penetrate, needing all his attention despite having semi-vowed to give herself a physical break. But it seems both Dew and her body have other things in mind, and she soon feels foolish thinking she could ever deny him or herself the absolute pleasure of his touch.

—————

Dew has fire in his eyes again, and they ignite further when he chances a heady taste of her, bringing his hand back up to his lips for a taste. It spurs his hunger, breakfast all but forgotten and he knows exactly what he's going to do as he begins tasking himself with the removal of Selene’s shorts.

He thinks to rip them, but starts with a fitful pull instead. He knows he's a brat and he doesn't care. Luckily, without an ask, she assists with the lift of her hips, and the move is enough for him to successfully pull them away from her body to leave her lower half naked.

Any other time, he might have liked to display a more thorough dedication to her beautiful limbs, but this just really couldn't wait. 

—————

She works to suppress some laughter when he tosses her shorts carelessly behind him and they land in the sink. Its fucking cute, although her heart is mostly racing and she's aware that the moment is about to get intense. 

Her sudden silence immediately draws an inquisitive look from Dew, leaving her at a loss for words over how damn sexy he is. She feels choked on her lust - from how much she fucking wants him, and in anticipation of what direction he’s going to take.

It should be obvious, but its not. He's sometimes unreadable and always full of surprises - her little trickster. He could certainly fuck her, and it would be perfect.

She silently aches for that pain, of how exquisitely rough he can be - how he's already wrecked her. She’s aware that she will be forever welcoming to share in every experience with Dew.

Its just something she desires, even knowing he likely doesn’t have the capacity to care for a partner in the way perhaps a human would.

It’s a concept that flickers across her mind and immediately leaves her with feelings of foolishness when Dew takes that precise moment to trip her heart once more.

Selene becomes ashamed for doubting him, feeling undeserving of his attentions. But it’s fleeting, simply overruled in the way he's already begun pulling her more deeply in love with him by his words, his actions.

She realizes he isn't even fucking trying, this is just who he is.

—————

His nails are a soft sting at the tops of her thighs when he leans in to kiss her again.

Its slow and long, giving a silent promise of whats to come, and he's ridiculously thorough with his mouth, but its his words that slay her soul.

They're so sweet, so fucking filthy. 

“I know your cunt is aching, sweet girl. And I'm going to kiss it better.”

She's on fire, undoubtedly bright red when he motions her to lean back with a soft press at the center of her chest.

She's silent as she goes willingly in the suggested reclined position, propped with her hands behind her. And Dew is still very close, leaning in then to reach her mouth to kiss - a singular one, wrought with assurance, before beginning his slow descent down her body.

He kisses at Selene's neck, placing a few wet licks at the soft skin to thrill her while his hands dig into the flesh of her hips. She fills his grip completely, driving him further, and its not long before he's moving along to her covered chest to provide more teasing bites through the fabric.

He's aware of the force and how his bite becomes a bit too harsh, but he can't stop. Besides, he knows she loves the nipple attention, how its rivaled to his own pleasure, and how fucking intent he is to devour her.

Dew knows the ache well, acquainted with the effects to his body, which are present now in his need to love on and taste so much of Selene.

He’s also attuned to how turned on she is, how fucking wet, that glorious scent and all the damn lightning between her gorgeous thighs.

He’s just dying to get to it.

And he feels hard, he certainly is, but his dick can fuck off. It’s his mouth and tongue that are really begging to be the star of the show, especially when she looks down at him through lustful heavy lids, watching as he begins to spread her further for him.

Her look says it all - she's dying for this too.

—————

The coolness of the air hits Selene’s exposed fleshed in a stark way, but its very quickly replaced by the heat of Dew’s breath when he lowers his face to hover so damn close to her aching cunt.

He lives for this, he really does - noting the tremble of her limbs and how while the position she's in isn’t the most comfortable, she remains completely still for him.

His good girl, his lovely girl.

He silently promises to remedy all of it with his attentions, sealing it infinitely with a quick turn of his head to kiss her inner thigh. And suddenly he can't help but to linger, moving in slow motion like a dream for them both, as his eyes begin to flutter shut for that first deep inhale of her essence.

It fills him with such passion, an endless desire, but also something more. He realizes he genuinely wants to give this to her - all his skill, all for pleasure - yes, but wrapped up with affection now.

And he knows he looks dreamy as fuck, just as dreamy as her, when he glances up again to meet her dark eyes with his own - ones he knows certainly aren't blue anymore, but rather a smoldering ember.

She holds the connection, beautiful in the dim light of the kitchen - all heaving chest, hardened nipples and with her lips parted to assist with air intake into her lungs.

She's nervous, she's excited and on edge - he can just tell. 

And Dew thinks she needs time, but he's not willing to allow more than a few sweet final moments for her - just enough so that she can brace herself for the onslaught of pleasure via one of his literal favorite past times.

Truthfully, he could eat someone out all day, he’d just never felt inclined to. And while he was certainly prepared to do so for Selene, he didn't feel quite confident that she wouldn't combust along the way if he endeavored.

So far, she'd been impressive, incredibly open and impossibly perfect, but he also knew they needed to build the stamina before reaching greater heights in order to really transition into the realm of what was customary and preferred for a ghoul, such as him.

Luckily, Selene seems almost as insatiable as Dew, so he's rather confident in the probability of it happening sooner than later.

All that aside, the current moment remains perfect. And with the dream personified before him, he's ready to give her as much as she can take - for adoring her has become second nature now.

—————

He wraps his arms around her thighs, putting an intense grip on them to move her closer to the edge of the counter. And Selene lets out a small gasp at his pull, how it puts her in the perfect position to receive his mouth.

Dew is ravenous, now afforded with the advantageous angle from which to feast as his hands move onto her naked hips in a loving caress. Then his mouth is in motion, placing that first electric kiss to her center in a way thats indescribable, but alludes to magic.

Selene has to watch this beauty, entranced by the sight of him between her thighs and how his glistening tongue slips from his mouth.

She’s at once startled, dazzled, and waiting in earnest for his next move.

The moment is embellished with deathly anticipation and her memory goes into overdrive over the capabilities of that wicked tongue, how he’s been here before. But its something altogether new seeing everything within the light and all before her, whereas before there was the blanketed security of nightly shadows that accompanied this sinful activity.

And its not that she doesn’t want to see this, she does.

She's actually quite entranced by how stunning he is, how enraptured he looks, how fucking fulfilled and fed by this he seems. But it becomes an effort to remain upright for Selene as the sensations intensify, and Dew descends again and again with an open mouth to place so many kisses to every slick part of her.

And he’s in no great rush, enjoying the feeding when she begins writhing her hips in a natural seeking for more of his mouth. They build a steady pace, but from time to time she slips and he has to control her motions with a reinforced grip, shallowing her movement because he doesn't want her to come too fast.

He knows its torture, but also that she’ll come out winning in the end.

But when she starts to beg in a bout of greed, he begins to display his sadomasochist nature by removing his mouth from her altogether. However, the pleasure of denying Selene her own is short-lived.

He simply misses the taste of her too much, and has to return - always quicker than originally anticipated, but always with a prominent force against her pelvis. And once controlled for this most recent occurrence, he comes back into her to concentrate all his attention onto her clit, feeling it begin to swell and tremble along his lips, inside his mouth.

Its absolutely destroying her, which is so exquisite for him.

He can barely hear his own thoughts over the very prominent vocals coming from above him, as she screams a beautiful slew of profanity. Although she’s mostly breathless with every other word incoherent, its still the best chorus Dew has ever heard.

It works to reinstate his ardor, how he licks and sucks at the most sensitive part of her like this is the last opportunity he'll ever have. He's unstoppable in the drive now, beyond determination.

And she’s really too damn much, about to shoot off the counter when she thinks she can’t take the sensations any longer. Its apparent not only in the way she screams, but also how she reaches a hand down to push hard against Dew’s face when she's close.

Upon his resistance, her thighs move to close in around him instead, but he quickly pulls them open again - further only to plant his face deeper into her cunt as punishment. 

He doesn’t let up, demanding for her to take what he's giving when he redirects his mouth to trace over the slick folds of her, before pushing his tongue inside, as deep as he can go.

She eventually succumbs to the pleasure, possessed and dying over it as he puts her where he wants her until she’s beautiful with arched back and shaking limbs, every bit the starry-eyed vision he’s come to expect when in the midst of such a world-tilting orgasm.

Dew gifts her with that, always finding her delicious on his tongue, especially now - as he lifts one of her legs to place on his shoulder. He’s intent to open her further, enough to accommodate his full tongue and continue to fuck her with it, bringing forth so much of her come on the retreat to taste, even as some of it escapes from his lips to drip down his chin.

And he's not even mad over the way she's now gripping one of his horns, severe in the clutch. She clearly needs him - holding on for her life, it would seem.

He thinks he could be in...

—————

Selene is a mess and she can’t take anymore of the ceiling, needing to put Dew back in her sights.

Removing her hold from his mask, she summons the strength to prop herself up again, despite how weighted her body seems in the immediate aftermath. And while its an effort to get upright, much less find a fuck to give about anything other than how good she feels, theres no inkling of regret when her eyes find his again.

She’s entranced in a new way, watching him all but drink from her. It leaves her warm, overflowing with great emotion towards him and the perfect adamance he has to make her feel incredible - so many things.

He’s so sweet, so fucking hot and she barely notices his powerful grip - how its moved to splay under her shirt and along her naked torso now. She wants his hands everywhere.

—————

Dew is also a bit obsessed over the very present pulse of her clit against his lips when he makes another pass over it, skimming lazily.

Eventually he desires her mouth again, knowing he’ll be met with a willing kiss. But before he moves to claim this from her, he can’t resist a final lick, this time indulging himself by starting at her ass with a light probing of tongue.

And while he’s certain she’s choking on some embarrassment over it now, he knows one day she won't have a fuck to give.

Its just that good.

He’s quick then as he makes his way back up to her, finding that he needs them to be close again - suddenly wanting to be in her arms. But instead, he pulls her into his own, knowing she probably needs more of the stability from him.

And he’s uniquely satisfied at how naturally she falls into him, realizing how she actually always has, whether intentional or not.

It crystalizes the trust, something that holds great value for him and he mulls on the concept of keeping her forever, while listening to the sound of her thunderous heart over several otherwise quiet minutes.

—————

Eventually Selene interrupts his thoughts, loosening her hold on him just enough to effectively begin the sweet kisses he’s been waiting for.

It renews his impatience, so he turns his face to receive her mouth more fully, even as they continue to readjust their positioning.

And the deliverance is sweet, deep and drawn out with intermittent breaks of their lips when she decides now and again to veer off with an effective lick to his chin, followed by another kiss.

She gives the best of her mouth, always so grateful and adamant to return all that she’s received.

Its a trait that makes her impossibly more perfect to Dew, even as foreign as it is. But even still, he’s intent to influence her in an alternate way too - wanting very much to prove to her that she’s beyond worthy of all he’s given and that as shocking as it may seem, he doesn’t expect anything in return.

He wants to do these things with her, sharing such intimacies, but he also wants to do them FOR her. And he says this, more or less, while stopping her advancements when she moves her hands down between their bodies, seeking his cock to instigate something more.

He understands how it might translate disinterest on his part, which couldn't be further from the truth, so he's relieved that she takes it well when he explains.

While he wants it, (he’ll always want whatever she’s offering), he’s also pretty hooked on her afterglow - how its surprisingly enough for him just knowing he’s the one responsible for it.

And he wants to spoil her more, ready to grant a million wishes just to see her smile and continue looking at him like she is now - as if he’s the only one she’ll ever need, ever want.

He’s so ready, feeling as generous as ever, so he asks whats on her mind, unwilling to wait a moment longer as he moves to help her off the counter again.

Once on her feet, she doesn't disengage, instead wrapping her arms around Dew's shoulders. 

—————

“I'm wondering if Copia has any other secret stashes we can break into.”

“He does, but you’ll have to provide the passcode.”

“And whats the passcode, dearest ghoul?”

“Your mouth, on mine. And don’t be sweet about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we backkkkk! damn, i miss this ghoul.


	23. hands, be still.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when the head and the heart just won't align.

Time moves rapidly in it’s attempt to keep up with the evolution of Dew and Selene’s connection.

And while time does still matter, its detached from their hearts, less evident in their mind, as they share the days and nights alone within the confines of the abbey.

It all becomes an endless stream, something beautiful as they continue to lay the foundation of who they are together. And everything they create denotes a quality of love, of partnership and an unspoken loyalty.

The concept of this strengthens with ease, elevating the standard with every deep conversation and all the adoring moments in between.

The oddities and quirks compounded from them both brings, as well, the essence of safekeeping. Its become relevant, an impossible clarity, just how much they’ve needed each other.

But the bond isn’t simply wrought from passion. They aren’t mindless with lustful attraction alone, although that maintains significance.

And neither of them are driven to acts, both intimate and lighthearted, only as a means to fill a void, nor as a conduit to console some deeply rooted insecurities.

They both have these, but it isn’t what drives the emotional development.

In fact, the nature in which they’re choosing to unveil their hearts stays wondrous. Its anything but linear, and always more than either of them originally anticipated.

But they’re also challenged by the risk, moved greatly towards the precipice from which they feel they’ll inevitably fall.

To be truthful, Dew is just glad to have the opportunity.

—————

He’s becoming grateful for a lot of things, like their entrapment, tucked away safely in a world that seems more appropriated towards fiction.

Sometimes everything feels too perfect, but he chooses not to mull too long, instead giving silent thanks that this is actually his home and she is here, that they are alone.

Although Dew has promised to take Selene on a tour of the grounds, he’s been putting it off, rather slow in motivation to move far from his bed these days.

Its selfish, but in a good way - in the way that fulfills his sometimes bratty nature and overarched ego in a positive direction. He transforms these flaws to benefit his love, feeding her with desire as much as he’s being fed himself.

To be fair, its still shitty weather - something he’s not hard pressed to expose Selene to as the air quality remains foul.

But it should rain soon, and he still finds himself anticipating that pewter christening unto the earth from time to time - usually when Selene is wrapped up in ancient literature, or roaming the galleries at leisure, or even when she’s dozing quietly by his side.

The rain.

He’s surprised that it hasn’t happened yet, although its as good an excuse as any to keep their affairs inside. And as with the realization of so many things, Dew has really begun appreciating the tranquility of their intimate, albeit massive space.

The singular attention he receives also sends him to deeper contemplations.

Its a grand privilege to be the recipient of Selene’s devotion - moving in the way she sees him, as if she wants to understand him like no one else ever has.

And he thinks she’s closer than she might think in this regard, of how close she is to truly reaching his heart.

Its intense, but he allows the infiltration in small increments that soon build to be a little too much, even for him.

Even still, he wants it, just everything. But he’s also terrified, especially when he feels she’s on the brink of saying the words that are most foreign.

It just doesn’t seem possible to him most days - that this could all be real.

She’s bewitching - everything that surrounds her and all thats conveyed in the looks she gives. Theres always a beautiful expression meeting his gaze, and its often followed by a touch.

But usually when they get close, words tend to fail her too and its always the perfect opportunity for him to intervene, silencing her indefinitely with his own lips so neither one of them have to think any more, much less speak.

—————

When nightfall arrives, Dew always wraps his body around Selene in preparation for the slumber ahead. It’s a new routine, something he requires as they end each day, settling into the quiet hours with luxurious ease.

He loves sleep, understanding the benefits of relaxation and noting now, with clarity, the extent that his body has needed this. Its been screaming for a physical reprieve from the build up of many years touring.

And really, he’s never been the best with self-care, having often neglected even the most basic ghoul necessities that really are needed to keep him functioning.

An indicator of this abandonment is displayed physically, as he’s actually thinner at present than his usual standard.

And Dew is fully aware that its a direct effect of him going off feed several weeks prior to finding Selene, although it wasn’t that he’d intentionally meant to starve, he just hadn’t cared…about anything, least of all - himself.

He’s improving, well on his way in a personal recovery and he’s encouraged to put in the effort. It even extends beyond the realm of health too.

Dew feels his life has been enriched by the presence of Selene, and he can’t undervalue the truth of it. He sees a future, at the least, an extended timeline of his own existence.

Previously, he’d only seen emptiness, only wanted to experience an imminent conclusion - and he had wanted it to be his own life.

But with Selene, now comes an implication of reliance, among many other emotions. He feels needed, somehow bestowed this dutiful gift meant to reinforce the value he possesses.

And it’s moved beyond self-flattery.

Dew is more confident in his ability to provide for her, welcoming the responsibility and thinking sometimes that he really could be enough.

But he still questions it from time to time, often wondering why this direction of thought still bothers him so much.

—————

They share the warmth of his bed in their current moment, a blissful combination of body heat, and of skin so recently caressed.

Honestly, he’s just never had it like this, any of it.

The way he lays with her is physically and emotionally rewarding, and he can’t imagine being without all he’s come to expect. And who wouldn’t want this?

He holds onto her, nestling close to inhale her scent - earthen, as if woodsy, but also sweet. He kisses her skin, hoping to convey his appreciation as his lips lazily skim her shoulder.

The coolness of the mask offers a contrasting sensory to what she feels from the rest of his body, and they both relax further.

Soon, his breathing falls in line with the steady rhythm of her heart, and he’s keen on the way it eventually levels out as she adjusts to the stilled silence.

—————

She customizes her body’s position to fit him perfectly to her, hoping he’ll remain this way the whole night through.

He’s the comfort and stability she needs, and his physical presence alone has posed to keep the loathing nightmares mostly at bay.

Selene hasn’t spoken of this.

She sees many things in her dreams, in the time that Dew is unable to protect her from the flashes of memory, and also of falsified images and terrible realities - things meant to damage her.

And they almost do.

She’s strong, but not strong enough to battle the war within her mind - how impossible it is to control in the absence of lucidity.

In fact, there are times when she dreads the actual sleep, and it’s such a pity to arrive to this conclusion for her, especially in reflection of all the perfect days that precede the daunting moments of fear and what lies ahead.

But Dew’s unconscious move to protect her when he holds her in this way does so much too. He soothes her with the assurance of safety, of how capable he is of protecting her.

She doesn’t doubt him.

Lying in the silence, sometimes she thinks he must know the power thats derived from his care - the way it transmits to her with strength.

He conveys so much in his touch, even the simplest of which still speak volumes. And it’s a mutual return of affection thats given, especially when there aren’t many words left between them and the moment, as it stands, is enough.

Whether its with Dew reaching for her hand to squeeze and hold or better yet, when he turns her face towards his for one last kiss before he loses her to sleep, the same truth always seems to be implied.

_I am here for you, I will take care of you._

—————

It becomes the best sleep of Dew’s life, and its an incredible way to end each day - most of which are sealed with the sharing of their bodies, but this isn’t only prevalent at night.

Dew is highly influential, and Selene is led by his encouragement for her to say what she feels.

They continue to elaborate on the concept of endless opportunity, and the daytime fucking begins to occur with increased frequency.

He attests this to his relaxed state in the evening - how any semblance of a pattern is quickly disrupted, and they keep each other guessing with their abrupt change of course during the waking hours. 

And they accomplish this - giving themselves up to be taken, across time, at any given moment. They do anything to prevent from defaulting.

There are still so many things he wants to do too, locations within the estate where he wants to take her, knowing they won’t always be afforded the current solitude.

It’s something they both know, and while its palpable that they want so much, and want to give so much, something still holds them back.

The resistance is subtle, but its there, and Dew allows his demons to get the better of him on this particular night.

—————

They’re several hours into sleep now, but suddenly he’s awake, fuming in the darkness.

He hates the doubt he feels - how everything actually seems too good to be true for him. Its been forefront in his mind a lot recently, and its as if he’s waiting for it all to blow up and disappear.

Surely it will…

His thoughts turn sour, plaguing him as all the internal bullshit he’s been trying to overlook rises for the occasion - a bitter session of contemplation.

He guesses its as good a time as any to do some self-loathing, and he thinks he must be overdue.

It’s true that Dew still fails at times to understand the passion behind Selene, or how ridiculously fated everything seems - how odd the circumstances are.

He is so damaged, convincing himself of this, which in turn, leads him to question the validity of his own feelings, as well as Selene’s towards him.

He muses in a poisonous manner on what a fucking handful he actually is, convincing himself that he’s likely not worth anyone’s effort.

Sometimes he thinks he’ll never change.

Its really the worst route his mind could take, and he can’t tamper the anxiety thats now presenting itself. Its equally odd how he thinks he’s somehow ready for this next step, but then not at all and it scares him shitless to imagine that what the two of them really have is more than just a convenience.

He knows its deeper than that, more than a pairing of two lonely hearts, although he probably wouldn’t have complained if that had been the case either.

But it isn’t…

He fucking knows this is so much more, but he feels like he’s drowning in moments like this, when his heart threatens to override the blasé attitude he’s adopted so well, to cut his defenses and see the truth.

It exhausts him, going over it in his head several times now, in thinking he’s somehow ready to do and be someone in the name of… love.

Its just fucking absurd.

And it isn’t just because yes, he’s afraid that it could be true - that he could actually be in love, but also because he questions his capability to accept it, as well as give her everything he knows she deserves.

It also bothers him to think as such a roughened pessimist, but he does have doubts. Is he even on the scale as “lovable”, regardless of any sentiment on Selene’s part that implies he’s an ideal recipient of such a profound and weighted thing?

Does he actually deserve this level of devotion, and does he want it?

He knows the answer, certain of it when he reflects on the intensity of how protective and enamored he is by Selene.

But he still searches for the validity of how she truly feels, of how real they are together, and if this is destined to be forever.

Something has to give, and he feels it coming on strong.

It’s enough to lose sleep over now.

—————

Dew rolls on his back, staring at the ceiling above, to a great nothingness that greets him.

He just needs some room to breathe, convincing himself Selene needs the space too, that her body was probably getting overheated by the closeness.

But he’s wrong, feeling the movement almost instantly as she shifts in her sleep.

A delicate hand reaches out across the now cooled space between them, searching blindly along the sheet until it makes contact with Dew’s naked torso.

Its an innocent move, so he tries not to over-sexualize the touch, but its near impossible. He welcomes her hand, how it roams lazily across his abdomen now, knowing she must be at least half awake at this point, because her fingers move in appreciation too.

He’s so tempted to grab it and put it between his legs to initiate…something, but he waits.

And as he waits, he realizes once more how easy she actually makes it for him to explore these uncharted territories.

Her fearlessness is so apparent, as is her open heart and she possesses enough confidence now to rival Dew with her gifted hands.

She’s feisty, but also sweet, and it really challenges him, because he can’t deny how easily they always seem to fall back into a perfect harmony.

She’s too damn lovely, effortless in the quelling of his negative thoughts when she moves again, this time, using his body for leverage to close their distance.

In a second, she’s laid out against him with a leg quickly tangled between both of Dew’s, leaving her foot to rub his with intimacy.

She kisses his shoulder briefly before she speaks. Everything she does is so damn tender, attentive, none of which Dew feels he currently deserves.

”Where did you go?”

Its just a whisper, enough to dissipate his bleak mood when he hears her soft concern, and the energy transforms. He knows she’s not referring to the physical disentanglement from her, but rather his emotional departure just moments before.

She’s intuitive, and he redirects his attention from the ceiling then. Turning his head on the pillow, he begins searching her face despite the darkness as he tries to find the words to respond, to assure her nothing is wrong.

He’s half convinced of this now, as well.

But the words don’t come, even as she continues to transmit her comfort - this idea of unspoken loyalty and her devoted heart.

She’s the sweetest person he’s ever met, impossibly so, when she wordlessly pulls him into her arms a moment later.

He realizes she’s letting him off the hook without an explanation, but she maintains her honesty, knowing he’s somewhere else.

But he’s not chastised for this. In fact, its the opposite.

“I miss you.”

He hates that he’s relieved - that this is what she says, and it is ALL she says. 

Then Selene kisses him and nothing else matters.


	24. The Final Curtain is Fading.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selene’s dewy eyes and lashes long, concealed.

When morning comes, the figurative black cloud is back, hovering over Dew as it compels him towards a temper thats becoming unfortunate.

He rises before Selene, and before the sun, leaving her wrapped up warm within the bedding, so as not to create a significant temperature variance in the absence of his body beside her. His intent is to leave her to her dreams, anything to keep her sleeping longer, because he just needs some fucking time alone.

However, its far from peaceful as he uses his allotment to recount so many of his recent impulsions while showering. And within seconds, he’s back on his bullshit, hung up, once again, on convincing himself that what he feels and perceives from Selene is actually illusion.

At the very least, he questions it.

The train of thought is so idiotic, but more than that - its becoming exhausting, especially in the early hour. Its too late though, and he can feel his heart pounding in a new way, as if its trying to fight back with his brain in a battle that his body is still too weighted from sleep to entertain. Of course, physical strength isn't required at the moment, as everything at current remains within. 

—————

This is really getting old, he thinks, and in his silent exasperation, he ups the temperature of the water several degrees to just short of scalding. Its what he likes, but this seems more punishing now as Dew becomes drenched from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet where the wet chases itself quickly down the drain. He watches the stream escape for just a moment before closing his eyes, allowing himself to fully feel the hot licks that patter off his skin. 

He thinks about Selene then, of the many times they’ve been together now. He reminisces on all those intimate moments in between too, everything personal and enchanting that always leaves him feeling starved for her and for what else she might share with him. Although Dew doesn't loathe her for this, as he might have, had this been anyone else, he acknowledges that she IS a weak spot for him. 

And its in his own quiet moments like this, after being with her for so many hours over the course of several days now, that he can’t help but consider her enigmatic pull to be something similar to that of an elixir.

In fact, he's certain that she would be the most absolute version possible, if it were to be true - viable enough to possess mysterious abilities meant to lace him with love and thrive within its confines. And in ways, he wants to damn her for maintaining his addiction so well, because he can't deny that he's pretty locked on her. But sometimes, even he can't even be mad that she's somehow miraculously moved him out of his typical character, and yet, also further into himself to explore these new facets. 

Dew thinks something about this phenomenon is really beautiful though, like more than he’s comfortable admitting aloud, but its true. He now has memories he's certain he'll remember forever, all along the spectrum of both innocently casual and the more highly significant. One of the main ones being their first time, which he thinks about frequently - of how easy it was being with her, and how unashamed he’d felt in baring himself on such a personal level, while still remaining true to his nature.

He can't forget the way she’d wanted to see and feel all of him, and then the way she had proceeded to do both of those things, rather adoringly, it had seemed.

Dew can’t overlook that. Just as well, he can’t ignore the way many of his troubles fall away when she is near, as was the case last night, when she had swooped in to rescue him with a caring touch, silently pulling him away from his burdening thoughts. Specific ones, which had included a personal mulling over the shift within, the pondering of a truth he was still a bit hesitant to admit, although it still kept rising like a heavy bile. Even now, amidst the suffocating steam that only fire ghouls such as himself can really tolerate, he’s experiencing it.

—————

Could he really be in love? It was hard to tell, although it felt like it, but what did he know? He had no previous comparison. In fact, Dew’s only indicator of this possibility is from the continuous sensation he's begun to feel, as if something deeply imbedded in his bones has finally been awoken and is now clawing with a fury to escape from his body.

He has love, or at the least, a grand affection for Selene. And sometimes it manifests in more obvious ways that are still very new to him, like how he grows concerned when he perceives her as too idle, almost melancholic, and he wonders how he can remedy it. Or how his hands literally ache to not only touch her body, but to really hold her in such a manner that denotes his privilege. He's also finding that he's moved to do things that serve her - how they stem from a place within him that isn't selfish, but rather from his desire to want to do so.

He also muses the aftermath of having sex with her - on how he still wants to be there, with her, even after they’ve both given and taken from each other’s body and achieved that great release. The silent moments that follow are of a rare magic in themselves, charged with unidentifiable energy thats become meaningful to him. It’s a rare joy to have such acceptance, such peace in this.

With others, Dew never wanted to stay before, had no intention to draw anything out after he’d received what he wanted. But he’s aware that there really is a requirement for more now - both from him, as well as Selene.

The sex is amazing, explosive in every way, which says a lot for his standard. But he’s not naive to the fact that the eternal connection, which love invites, isn’t quite where they’re at with what they’ve physically shared. He knows he’s holding back in that regard, thinking maybe she is too, and they both have their reasons for this. But as alarming as it seems, Dew admits to himself that he's dreamt of the moment that she might give indication that she wants this to be forever.

It seems clear, but then not at all, and he's half convinced he’ll allow himself to pass over the threshold from which he’s always distanced himself from if only he knew with certainty. Love - its a tremendous thing, but he feels more accepting of the notion, realizing this as the hot water continues in it's endeavor to release further tension from his body. His muscles loosen in the relief, and he feels the dark mood begin to dissipate, as well.

With a steady heart, he continues washing his body, albeit with some regret as the scent of her leaves his skin with finality. But he still sees her in his mind's eye, moved to visualize this now as he imagines his hands to be her own. Dew thinks of her, how she's still sleeping soundly in his bed, unaware that her lips lie in wait for his morning kiss.

And now he's aching for them again, although he can wait awhile longer. However, he can’t stop himself from recalling how perfectly shaped those lips of hers are - pouty, soft and perfect. Then his mind wanders further, into the territory he loves most, as he reflects on the way she's kissed his body in reality, and also of how she's wrapped her beautiful mouth around his cock to provide such lustful worship on him.

He closes his eye’s as he begins stroking himself, temporarily swept up in his thoughts of her, and it doesn’t take long for him…

—————

This means more, but he needs a sign of it before deep-diving with the emotions.

Stepping out of the shower now, he realizes he really wants her words, a confirmation of this, delivered from her mouth, so that he can be sure that the sincerity he feels isn’t just a trick of the mind.

This stems from past craze and a fading paranoia, behavior he's never denounced when called out on it. And Selene is no exception, for even as selfish as it is in light of how unwilling HE IS of making the first move towards this, he still has to be sure. Despite all the direct and indirect validation she’s already given, all the sweetness from her heart thats relieved so many of his insecurities, he still needs this from her.

He’s quite aware of his own inconsistencies as he studies himself in the mirror now. Dressed only from the waist down, his dark skin glistens in the reflection as droplets of water continue their fall from his hair and onto his naked shoulders. They descend further down his back, but are eventually taken by the coolness of the air.

The hour still seems ungodly, although his bias is at play, as he’s a quintessential creature of the night. He’s wide awake, but despite this fact, he still grumbles at the thought of getting fully dressed, too keen on the naked freedom to consider additional clothing, least of all, his mask. Its such a fucking hassle to him now...thinking on this as his mind turns creative.

He begins to formulate a plan of how he can fully indulge his sudden impulse to remain just like this, if only for awhile longer, but most importantly, within the presence of Selene. The idea strikes fairly quick, halting any further advancement by Dew to finish dressing.

Instead, he brushes his teeth in tandem. Once done, he turns the attention to his still damp hair. Gathering the mass, yes - its getting quite long again, he ties it up while making his way back to the wardrobe to fetch one last important article before finally exiting his bathing quarters. 

—————

He’s decided he's going to wake her, finding the timing perfect when he steps back into the bedroom, just as the earth has slowly begun to lighten with the coming of the dawn. And Dew can’t even find the decency to feel guilty about robbing her of sleep when he nears the bed, so intent to make the vision he’d summoned just moments before a reality - anything physical will honestly do.

This is a good plan, he assures himself soundlessly, as he considers her still sleeping form - of how she’s unraveled herself from the sheets and heavy duvet in the short time that he’s been gone. Likely overheated by the warmth, he believes her disentanglement is probably still unintentional.

Its telling in the way Dew notices she’s kicked the bedding down to cover just a portion of her lower limbs now, despite the lingering chill as the morning air seeks to infiltrate the space. Her body’s natural response to the temperature change is also apparent, and its causing his blood to heat at the sight. He can almost feel the hardness of her nipples against his wet tongue…

He sincerely wants her, even as her face is turned away from him. This is actually what he’d hoped for upon his return, making it ever so easy to execute his next steps, which he does now.

—————

Dew eases gently back into bed beside her, smooth and non-disruptive, although the proximity of her is quickly causing his patience to slip. But he collects himself as he moves closer into her from behind, cozying up until the front of his naked chest is pressed against the soft fabric of the nightgown she’s still in.

He wraps an arm around her waist, lingering his touch now and again along the curve of her hip as he begins a soft nuzzling into her. It so simplistic, even the way he holds her with such familiarity now, but the action intensifies as her fragrance filters through to him with more clarity without the added barrier of his mask. Just as well, her soft hair caresses against his bare face, wisps of which tickle his skin, innocent and unintended, impactful.

He indulges for a short while, accustoming himself to this new commodity of breathing her in with all his senses fully committed to the experience. The moment feels precious somehow, and even more so when he brushes her hair away with gentle fingers, to kiss along the side of her neck over and over again. But its not just his lips that are glorifying in the action of what he's doing. Every part of him, the entire surface of his face, feels connected to the love he’s settling into her skin with unfiltered devotion.

Its new, near perfect, something indescribable, although Dew doesn't want to brew too much. And he doesn't, for Selene eventually releases that first sigh to give indication of some lucid awareness towards him. Even still, the lovely sound of her groggy moan encourages him to continue. It’s blissful when his hand starts roving over her front, fisting and releasing the fabric of her dress, while he gives her time to decide if this is real or if she's just dreaming.

He waits, sensing that her slow awakening might be intentional in her attempt to prolong the moment. This seems more evident with each passing minute, but its undoubtedly true when her hand reaches for his, and she guides it down to touch her most intimate place. What a brat, he thinks, applying significant pressure against her with the heel of his hand, knowing this is a good starting point…

And he approves, loving that she’s chosen this form of acceptance to the pleasure he’s giving. It’s such a surprising manner, and for this, there really isn’t a rush. However, he does wonder how long it will last, as he continues to touch her.

“Mmm. Good morning, darling ghoul.”

He tastes her skin, withholding all verbal response to her greeting, and instead leaving her to the silence as he kisses on. Absently, he begins ticking off the minutes until she will realize something is different, although theres no time limit for when this revelation should occur. Dew hopes to make this clear by the lazy strokes his fingers begin taking along her wet folds, because really - theres no rush at all.

It actually doesn’t happen right away, but when it does, he’s ready to set the plan in motion.

—————

In Selene’s relaxed state, she’s unthinking when she dreamily raises her hand, reaching back in an eventual caress of her fingers along Dew’s perfect bone structure.

In a deeper recess of her mind, she knows theres no real logic to this action, since he wears a mask. But even the thought of this doesn't deter the motion, and her hand continues to advance blindly. She just needs more connection with Dew, especially since she’s not facing him.

And because she's anticipates her touch to be met with the hard surface of his mask, as like every time before, the discrepancy of this routine doesn't immediately strike her - how she's actually getting so much more exposure as her fingers begin to chart the new, but somehow familiar surface. It takes her a moment before she realizes that it is indeed skin that she’s feeling, but more than that, its Dew’s actual temple, his cheek... the entire fucking side of his actual face that she’s caressing.

It sends a shock through her, one of confusion and for a split second, she feels tricked, because this can’t be real. Yet, its impossible that she’s still dreaming either. For her, this all feels too real and Dew is real, solid and perfect behind her as his lips continue to brush along her skin to ignite so many sensitive nerve endings. And its too real the way his deft fingers have begun to spread her further, seeking now to penetrate. 

This is real, so fucking real, when he allows her own touch to roam - how her curious fingers find their way into his hair in seconds. She can tell its soft, luxuriant, even though its clearly tied up. Wait, what?! Dew has long hair??

She’s only half convinced, because really, it doesn’t make sense. He would never be without his mask while with her - that, he’d made perfectly clear. But if that was really the case, then this really couldn't be Dew or she really wasn’t awake. It couldn’t be the latter though, because she’s feeling everything from him right now, and he's presenting as a living, breathing being - a beautiful and sturdy one, laid out along her body with his own.

But she’s more convinced when he nips at her neck, pulling at the sensitive skin as he holds it between his teeth in teasing fashion. Its enough to compel her body into an involuntary arch that leaves her grinding her backside into him. And who else, but him, would chuckle so devilishly at such a physical response?

Selene is thinking too hard on this now, as she continues to come out of sleep. Then, all doubt leaves her and she’s fully awake, eyes opened wide to leave her staring a the empty space before her, at the very moment her fingertips pass over one of his unsheathed horns. This really IS him and he is NOT in a mask.

“OH MY GOD, DEW?!?!?”

—————

Its not panic he hears in her voice, but rather excitement and yes - still some disbelief. And he’d be lying if he wasn’t entirely pleased by this response from Selene, or by the way she’s trying fervently to disentangle from his intimate hold in order to turn in his arms to see him now. This is something that just can’t happen though, so he stays close to her.

He makes it impossible for her to even fully turn her head, knowing at the least, she's only picking up a vague image with her limited peripheral in their current position. And now that its finally registered, he thinks to reassure her, appreciating her response of enthusiasm and genuine disbelief.

“Its me, babe." And his next words come easy in response to her pleas. “You can’t see me, but I want to leave the mask off. At least, for now.”

She understands this, but soon begins to bargain, and he can tell just how much she wants this. “I’ll keep my eyes shut, but please let me turn around, Dew. Let me feel your skin on mine, your face, everything, please!”

Dew is calm in the response, calculated with his next words, hoping it doesn’t sound like too great of an ask, nor offensive. “I want to, but the risk is too high, and… I can’t trust you with this temptation. I couldn't do it either, if given the opportunity...” He's quick to continue, following his last words, so as not to deflate her further in thinking theres a finality to what he’s just said. They still have options.

“I want this too, but you’ll need to trust me and -“

“I do! Tell me what to do.”

—————

Theres no point drawing this out now, he realizes, sensing some urgency in her now and the excitement fuels his own. So with a final kiss to Selene’s clothed shoulder, Dew delivers his instruction for her. He adjusts himself too, allowing her to reposition more comfortably, so that she's sitting upright now, still facing the wall opposite them.

“Close your eyes, beautiful”, he whispers as he reaches behind to pull the black tie from his back pocket.

She complies, becoming breathless with the anticipation at the start of Dew gathering her hair to place behind her shoulders. He leaves it to cascade, long and flowing down her back, but not before combing his own fingers through the length of it. He loves it so much, but he can't stall and get wrapped up in this feature of hers - one that he's ridiculously obsessed with.

He's sure that it shows, because his lingering is never subtle. But then he's progressing, light with ghosting touch along her face as his fingertips make contact with the delicate skin of her cheek. He provides a caress, his unspoken appreciation of her trust, and then she's feeling the brush of soft fabric. He slowly begins to cover her eyes, and it’s secured in no time, with Dew completing the knot to hold the covering in place with some finality.

Selene quickly offers up the answer she knows he’s bound to ask, assuring him that she cannot, in fact, see anything. But then she follows it with a question, suddenly a bit timid with her anticipation, as her heart accelerates into a thunderous pattern. She can’t believe how much she wants this, and even less that Dew is actually the one who has initiated it.

“Can I turn around now?”

When he voices consent, she readjusts to face him and immediately feels his eyes on her, despite her inability to do the same.

“Let me kiss you.”

He says nothing, but she continues, blindly reaching for his hand to gauge their closeness. The contented sigh he releases then, tells her that they're closer than she initially thought. It’s all she needs to know before she's leaning into the general direction of where he is, reeling over the anticipation of this new kiss to come.

Then he’s there, so close that she can feel his breath, catching onto the subtle smokiness of it as it lingers on the air between them. She's inhaling it, along with the clean soapy scent of his body, when his hand comes up unexpectedly to trace along the outline of her face. And he eliminates the remaining guesswork for her when he takes ahold of her chin between his thumb and forefinger, strategically tilting her head by a small degree to get the perfect angle.

He grants a beautiful permission that seeks to ignite her, and its perfect when he closes the last bit of space between them to fully capture her lips in a searing kiss.

“Yes, always kiss me.”

—————

They get lost in the newness, and all the sensations leave Selene dazzled - from the feel of Dew’s full mouth on hers to the sweetness of how their actual features finally collide. And there’s a silent tenderness in the way he’s holding her too - of how he lifts both his hands to cup her face gently, implying that she might do the same to intensify the intimacy of the moment and learn his face.

She gets his drift, but doesn’t want to leave her interpretation to chance.

“Can I -"

She starts, but he quickly interjects, before dizzying her with another long kiss.  
  
“Quit asking, just do it.”

And so she does, light in the touch as her own fingertips feather along his cheekbones first, noting how sharp they seem - so fucking elegant, like the rest of his physicality. She lingers, attempting to keep up with his kiss as she makes a study of him solely through touch. But his mouth is distracting, hungered, and she's losing her mind again when Dew rushes his fingers into her hair.

He’s so good when he’s like this, intoxicating her with his care and the undeniable pleasure brought forth from the gentle scratches he gives her scalp now. It pulls her senses into overdrive and the lovely tingles begin to shoot down her spine, subduing many of her own advancements, as she becomes entranced by all his sweetness. It very feel-good, and she's relaxing further and faster into him, than ever before.

Then she’s falling back, intent to land against the pillows in an ideal repose, with Dew laid partially on top of her. She'd pulled him down in her unwillingness to put distance between them, ensuring instead, that they’d descend together into this new position.

Once situated, Selene resumes her discovery on basic instinct. She encircles Dew within her arms, caressing his naked shoulders as his mouth finds hers again.

He's just begun a light nipping on her bottom lip, when she makes the decision to advance further. She thinks to return the service of things he’s done that give her immense pleasure. Besides, she really wants to capitalize on the opportunity of this moment, still reeling over the fact that Dew is unmasked.

She feels him smile against her at the start of her fingers teasing just at the hair that meets his nape. Clearly, she knows she’s limited here, in that he has it knotted up, but it doesn’t prevent her nails from reaching his scalp for some comforting scratches.

—————

She couldn’t have known how much of a weakness this actually was for all ghouls, but its telling enough by his body’s immediate response when he begins to purr. So she re-concentrates her attentions, wanting Dew to have this moment, always finding it rewarding that she has the capacity to make him feel like this.

Selene loves being the source of such comfort for him, thinking he must not have so many reliances. And this one seems to be a big fucking deal, because it’s enough for him to abandon their kiss entirely and sink into her.

Without a word, he repositions himself to lay in a way that compels her to hold him when he rests his head on her chest and wraps his arms around her. Its intimate, but theres also something so innocent about this too and there are so many undercurrents tied to this reaction from him.

It seems like he’s just let so many guards down, just within the half hour that she's been awake.

Of course, she's still unseeing, but Selene feels and hears every thing - like the way he rubs his cheek against her in his euphoria and how loud of a purr is elicited from her constant attention on this newly exposed area of him. She continues, and in time, even tilts her head just enough to skim her lips, FINALLY, over his smooth forehead, kissing into his hair with endearment.

She loves this, although she’s a bit taken aback by how complacent he’s become, more than ever before, from what she can recall. And then the space becomes too quiet, too out of character for him, and she can’t hold back the chiding remark she feels is needed to stir and bring Dew back to her.

“Good kitty.”

Of course it draws him, and suddenly he’s shifted back to hovering over her. She can tell from the direction of his voice when he speaks again, stern in tone this time, but she knows he’s not actually mad. 

“Damnation. Sometimes, I really fucking hate you.”

Selene reaches out then, brushing along the hard angle of his jaw, finding it easily enough, despite her darkness. She challenges his latest comment when she grabs his hand, this time placing it on her chest, encouraging him to fill his palm with her.

“Show me just how much you hate all of t h i s.”

—————

He’s so ready, hungry for her when his mouth descends on hers for another kiss that’s open and deep.

His hands reinstate their exploration on her body, just as he feels her tongue penetrate his mouth, seeking. He’s not over this or her tits, how round and perfect they are when he cups them in each of his hands, giving a good squeeze. But its not enough to simply hold them, he really needs to see and taste them, as well.

He makes his move here, reaching for the neckline without a second thought. He unties the closing of her shift with a singular pull, knowing it’d be easier to rip it off, but this is actually more fun. 

Dew loves the agony of it, how slow he is to undress her.

Her skin is warm, so damn smooth under his fingers as his touch eventually moves under the thin fabric to really cup and squeeze her. She feels...heavenly. And its so lovely when she sighs against his mouth, needing this and clearly in love with his skill as he plays at her nipples with light scratches and tugs to get them impossibly hard. But then she interrupts their kiss, telling him without hesitation, exactly what she needs.

“Dew, I need your mouth on them. That hot tongue, please.”

He’s so extravagant in his work, pressing his lips to hers once more before he gives into the more instinctive nature to finally rip the fabric in order to fully release her. And he always feels like he can’t breathe in instances such as this, when he takes a quiet moment to look at the beauty before him, the lushness of her - reveling in so much perfection.

Dew's heart begins to race.

He can’t recall ever feeling this level of hunger for someone, and it’s overwhelming as he watches his own hand glide along her naked skin now. He remains enamored by the contrast of their coloring, knowing she feels this way too - allured by the reality it reinforces of him as a demon, willingly chosen by a mortal woman who is so genuine, so true.

In fact, the level of her understanding regarding their differences and the challenges someone like him poses is so impactful. Even the trust she holds is evident, the faith in him is too - both of which is demonstrated in the way she remains patient in this new silence, always open and so brave by his impossibly high standards.

Its true, this all does take courage - being with him, especially like this, in such a vulnerable state. Even still, Selene needs Dew to know that even outside of comfort, she does trust him.

Although it sometimes doesn’t make sense how she can do this, she'll always prepare herself for the possibility of fulfilling both his desires, as well as her own. And while its also true that she's often overcome by shyness, she finds herself persevering, wanting Dew to have everything with her, even if some trepidation remains. But the overriding factor of all this is a simple fact - she wants him to desire every aspect of her, even the parts of herself that she doesn’t love.

Truthfully, Selene can’t always see her pull, how exquisite she is based on what she’s been told from past lovers. But with Dew, she begins to believe they might be true, so many things, and its becoming easier to let go of certain insignificances from her past - ones that still seek to leave damning impressions on her.

But there really isn't much room left for those old doubts now, as Dew seems determined to occupy so very much of her new world. And he makes it easy for all those things to fall away, although it doesn’t take much convincing, when he leans in to kiss her lips, ever so gently, before lowering to her breasts.

—————

Its a casual reassurance from him, one that he feels is necessary, as he catches the beginning color of that familiar blush he’s come to know so well. It spreads across her skin, all thats exposed to him, in a subtle rose.

He’s enamored. 

“You really are so beautiful, Selene. I want to make you feel so good, baby.”

Those are the last words she hears before Dew delivers his electric touch on her. It spreads like wildfire along her body to excite her anew, and she soon becomes doused in fevered kisses from him, over and over again, as he maps her body, her face, her mouth with his own.

Of course she participates, constantly interrupting his love on her, by holding his face to kiss the entire surface of it, blindly. She’s adoring to all the angles and sharp lines of him, everything that her lips have begun to familiarize.

She adores him.

And she just knows he’s fucking stunning, more assured of this than before, by what he's allowed of her touch. But she’s still trying to envision whats just beyond the tie he’s fashioned around her eyes to conceal him from her.

It soon becomes a struggle though, and she thinks to just enjoy how they are in this moment, instead.

Ultimately, her body’s more immediate needs inherit the full capacity of her thoughts and soon, all she can maintain focus on is Dew’s hand as it finds its way back between her legs. And lingering near her lips again, he provides intermittent kisses while he goes fast and slow with his touch - those long gorgeous fingers finding every part of her, and giving her exactly what she needs.

She seeing starbursts behind her eyes, a trajectory in the darkness as she gets close. And she’s aware that Dew is watching her with great intent, simply by the energy she feels from his nearness as he undoubtedly studies the nuisances of her face in her surrender.

She isn’t wrong.

Dew is silently enjoying every minute of this, lustful over the way she looks and sounds and moves as she becomes more and more undone for him.


End file.
